


How We Are

by pogoshipoyo



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Disorder, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, hanbin's a panicked gay, hanbins so fucking awkward y'all jfc, he also has a thing for finger guns apparently, jiwon's super confused, junhoe cant cook for shit, lil appearances from jaewon and winner here and there, more than like half of them are bi whoop whoop, theres so much cursing dhshfkd also jiwon never stops saying fuck, theyre all dumb as hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-11-27 01:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18188180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pogoshipoyo/pseuds/pogoshipoyo
Summary: In which seven dweebs work in a cute fairy-themed café together and Hanbin’s the socially inept manager who never gets any sleep, Jinhwan’s a mom, Junhoe keeps breaking the oven, and Jiwon can’t stop saying “fuck.”They have adventures and do dumb shit.That’s it. That’s the fic.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> this is a such mess I literally don’t know what the fuck im doing lads
> 
> Anyway there’s a whole lotta self-deprecating humor and hetero jokes because like. what else is new.  
> Rated M throughout mainly because there’s literally so much cursing in this ahfhdjkfld so if you don’t like that, I’m sorry! 
> 
> Also I noticed there’s not a lot of long ongoing non-idol aus of them on here?? which kinda sucks bc they’re all crackheads Whomst I love but yeh here we go fellas

It takes a solid thirteen minutes and forty-two seconds for Jinhwan to finally stir in his sleep after hearing the same noise, _that_ noise, and another two minutes and thirty-eight seconds afterwards for him to finally peel open his eyes.

He sleepily rubs at his eyelids, completely disoriented because that fat ass nap he meant to wake up from eons ago turned into an eight-hour fog of a hazy dream where he had a conversation with a unicorn in the middle of an ocean made out of lemon-lime soda and Pixie Stix.

Wow. Yeah, maybe downing vodka with Junhoe on an empty stomach ‘til midnight yesterday was a terrible idea. Note to self: don’t fucking do that.

He’s bitch-slapped back into reality, however, when he hears _it_ again, and then he’s reminded of why the fuck he’s even awake in the first place.

There’s a rattling noise, then a few thumping sounds. Then more rattling.

_Whomst **the** fuck._

Nah. Nah, it’s probably just a tree, right?

He raises his head slightly and squints into nothing _at_ nothing because his room’s still pitch black, save for the small traces of moonlight peeking into his blinds, his cheek still sticky from the puddle of drool dampening the side of his pillow, _real sexy_ , and he wipes it with the back of his hand before smacking his lips together. But he’s not about to get up from this goddamn bed. He’s sleepy and comfy and he’s already made a warm spot that he refuses to get up from because it’s fuckin’ cold and he’s _comfy_ , so getting up and investigating seems a little pointless.

Sleeping, though. Sleeping’s good.

So, he curls his fingers around the burrito he’s quite literally wrapped himself in, and rolls over.

Lets his eyelashes flutter a little. And closes his eyes.

Then,

 _Bang_.

Some muffled cursing. Then another _bang_. Pretty sure he hears a “fuck” here and there too, but he could just be hearing shit. Until he hears it _again_.

Okay.

This tree sure sounds mad as fuck. Maybe this is its way of cursing him for not recycling his paper more often. Either that, or he’s losing his goddamn mind.

But then he twists his neck towards the window and remembers that he lives on the fifth fucking floor in their apartment complex, and he also remembers that they live in the heart of the city, so why in the _fresh hell_ would there be a big ass _tree_ trying to tackle his window in.

Or better yet, why would there be a tree out here at _all_.

Three more loud ass _bangs_ and two rattling noises in, and it’s then that he also registers that the sound most definitely _isn’t_ coming from his window, or not even his apartment—it’s coming from the _hallway_.

The fear and realization immediately kicks in, and Jinhwan shoots up from beneath the covers with wide eyes, hair shooting out in every direction possible.

He’s about to fucking _die_.

He’s a good citizen. He pays his taxes. He doesn’t deserve to get _murdered_ like this. Maybe Jiwon can handle this kinda shit, Junhoe on a good day, but not him.

And Jiu jutsu means jack shit when he can’t even watch pg-13 scary movies without wanting to full-out burst into tears, piled on top of the fact that he’s just barely treading 5’4.

Nah. Nah, he needs a _weapon_.

So, he shuffles around in the dark for a bit, stubs his toe on the dresser, then trips over a stack of cd’s somehow and damn near kills himself in the process, until he finally, fucking _finally_ manages to seek out the light switch, and the space spills with red hues from his dimmed lights like messy splotches of watercolor droplets as he finds the steel-coated baseball bat in the corner next to his closet.

He doesn’t even know why he still has this bat. Technically, it’s only here because Jiwon left it after he tried to kill a roach but failed because he found out it could _fly_ and he almost had a heart attack and damn near fled the fucking country when it flew at him like an angry torpedo demon out of hell. And _technically_ , the only thing Jinhwan had ever been ballsy enough to even hit with this thing was a spider (because apparently, spiders just love chappin’ it up in his apartment), and even _that_ almost gave him a heart attack too, so he’s not sure how the fuck he’s supposed to take down a grown ass man-burglar-person-whatever-the-fuck this is, but he doesn’t consider it. Doesn’t even _think_ of the consequences. Like the responsible adult ( _ish_ ) that he is.

Jinhwan lowers the bat and narrows his eyes at the head of black floof that’s literally trying to full out football-tackle the door across from him, but he can still barely even see shit because of how heinously concave and _blurry_ this peep hole is, not to mention it’s like 4am and his body feels like an illegal HD James Bond flick running on a windows vista desktop. Or a leapfrog.

 “God fucking _dammit_ ,” the blurry _floof_ curses under its breath from the other side of the door as he/she/whoeverthefuck struggles, and Jinhwan raises a shaky hand to the doorknob because he’s really trying to weigh out the consequences here.

This could be a burglar. Or an assassin. Or a fucking Mormon.

Yet here he is, shakily holding this steel bat, in his strawberry-print PJ’s, on a _weekday_ , watching the back of a criminal as he/she tries to break into his best friend’s apartment in front of his own very eyes, ready to _not_ whoop he/she’s ass whatsoever because he most _definitely_ isn’t about that life and he doesn’t even know why the fuck he’s doing this but he can’t turn back now.

_What am I doing. What the fuck am I doing._

_I can’t fight._

_I can’t fucking **fight** —_

He flings his door open anyway and it cracks against the wall with a loud _bang_ , startling both himself with and the culprit. 

Only it’s not a burglar. Or an assassin. Or a Mormon.

Because Hanbin stands there, _mid-break-in-attempt_ , doe eyes going softer when he sees that’s it’s just Jinhwan, only to go confused and even a little alert when he sees the baseball bat.

“Uhm—”

 “What the _fuck_ ,” is the first thing Jinhwan says because his heart’s about to legit do a fucking cartwheel out of his throat and fuck a ‘ _hello’_ when Hanbin’s full-out trying to break down his own goddamn door with what looks like a paper clip and a… _fork_?

Hanbin flinches. Like he’s just been caught doing something pretty goddamn stupid. Probably because he has. Why does he have a _fork?_

He’s got his black specs on. The ones that’re just _way_ too fucking big for his face, the ones that droop all the way down to the tip of his nose and pinch at the sides of his nostrils. The ones that make him look like a weird mixture between a young adult about three dicks deep in a quarter life crisis and a five-year-old boy. Probably because he’s dancing on the very thin line of identifying with both.

There’s a big, obnoxiously bright yellow band aid with a tiny smiling penguin on his right cheek, and another plain pink band aid on his chin, and his fringe is damp and on the verge of being just a _little_ too long in front of his eyes. Not as long as Jinhwan’s where he’s pretty much blind and can see _jack_ shit, but long enough to cover his entire forehead and the majority of his dark, thick eyebrows.

It’s soft. He looks soft. Maybe even a little fluffy.

They have a mini stare off. Jinhwan’s the first one to break it, his eyes drifting to the said fork and paperclip still jammed in the now-abused key hole.

Hanbin notices, trails his own attention to what he’s doing, and he lets out the most defeated sigh as he just looks at the floor.

 “This looks _real_ bad, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jinhwan almost hates himself for how breathless he sounds, and he places a hand over his heart. Probably to stop it from beating out of his chest. “No _shit_.”

Hanbin just nods. Like he knows it was a dumb question (it was). Like he’s accepted the fact that he probably looks like an idiot right now (he does). The action makes his glasses slip a little, and he wrinkles his nose a bit to stop them from literally falling off of his face.

He looks like a fucking _dork_ and it’s _ridiculous_ and this whole scene is just _ridiculous_ and –jesus, he didn’t even bother looking at the clock before haul-assing out of bed and almost dying from that fall he took but he definitely knows that it’s just _way_ too late in the night for all this.

Hanbin’s shoulders droop, but he doesn’t bother taking the paperclip or the bent-up fork out of the key hole, and he sniffles a little.

“I was just. Uh,” his eyes stay glued to the _weapon_ in Jinhwan’s tiny little hands, but he keeps going anyway, “I went out for a walk, but like?” he steps away from his door a little, rubs the back of his neck and Jinhwan just keeps staring at him because he still looks like a fucking _dork_. “I think I forgot my password?”

“So, you’re locked out.”

“Yeah.”

“And you tried to break in with a fork.”

“…yeah.”

 _Password_.

Right.

Because Hanbin kept losing his fucking key, so Jinhwan quite literally harassed him into getting some _fancy shmancy_ bullshit touch pad thingy that opens his door with a passcode. It’d be super easy and convenient if he wasn’t a dumbass. But then again, he’s a dumbass, so. Here they are.

“I almost had a fucking heart attack. And _murdered_ you with a _baseball bat_ ,” Jinhwan starts slowly, like he’s trying to make sense of what’s happening, a hand over his heart that’s about to full-on leap right out of his rib cage and crawl up his throat. “Because you _locked_ _yourself_ out of your own _apartment._ ”

“No offense but I don’t think bashing an intended serial killer with a baseball bat is really in your agenda of ‘ _irresponsible shit Jinhwan always does 101_.’” 

Jinhwan heaves out a dry, staccato laugh at the jab, then blindly tosses the bat back into his apartment. He hears a loud series of crashes behind him from the impact, but doesn’t even bother turning around to see the damage because he’s tired and he knows he probably broke something, but he just doesn’t fucking _care_. “020794.”

Hanbin gives him a confused look. “What?”

Jinhwan just rolls his eyes and scoots past him, punching in the numbers on the younger’s door, and the soft beeps from the tap screen are the only thing that fills the brief silence.

“Your password,” he deadpans as he turns around finally, and almost _heinously_ on cue, Hanbin’s door opens with a mini squeak. “You switched it to my birthday, ‘member? Because you forgot your password last time? Also because you literally can’t remember your own birthday? ‘Cause you’re like, kind of a dweeb?”

Hanbin straightens at the call-out. “Okay _listen_ , that wasn’t even my fault. I’m pretty sure I spend more time at your place than mine,” he defends himself and he’s not _entirely_ wrong. They both practically live in each other’s apartments anyway. Only reason they don’t _actually_ live together is because Hanbin’s the human personification of _compulsion_ and just prefers living alone, and Jinhwan doesn’t think he can deal with the younger turbo scrubbing the floors and wiping down the tables forty-thousand times at five o’clock in the morning every day. He’d either lose his damn mind or end up dying from inhaling bleach fumes constantly. But living right across from him and making sure he eats all his meals? Making sure he’s okay mentally and physically all the time? Making sure he doesn’t burn the entire apartment complex down by trying to experimentally make pasta without a stove or an oven somehow, if possible?

 Now _that_.

 _That_ he can manage.

Jinhwan takes notice of how the tip of Hanbin’s nose is flushed a soft, baby pink, the apples of his cheeks red and splotchy as well, along with the slight tremor in the younger’s voice as he speaks and he almost forgets that Hanbin mentioned he went out for a walk when it’s borderline freezing outside.

 _Almost_.

He then takes notice of the extremely thin black t-shirt and the light wash jeans gracing Hanbin’s slim legs and he’s about half a second away from screaming out of his ass. He’d probably strangle Hanbin himself, too, if the younger didn’t already look like he was about to keel over and die from frostbite.

 “Did you forget to wear a jacket again? After I literally told you to stop forgetting to wear a jacket when you go on walks? Y’know, so you don’t fucking _die_?” the nagging just flows out so _naturally_ because he’s definitely recited this script to Hanbin about a thousand times, and Hanbin definitely never fucking listens to him anyway. “Do you just like, disassociate every time I talk to you?”

“Yes,” Hanbin deadpans seriously and Jinhwan suddenly wants to punch him in the tit. “And don’t _yell at me_. I’m cold and sensitive right now.”

“I’m not _yelling at you_ , I’m speaking at a completely reasonable decibel. Yelling’s _your_ thing, remember?”

He expects Hanbin to shoot back with a snarky comment like always, but he’s thrown off when the younger erupts into a mini coughing fit that makes him lose his balance a little.

“Hey,” Jinhwan uncrosses his arms, almost mad at himself for how quickly his attitude changes. “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Hanbin leans against the wall with his hand on his chest and his expression goes a little pained. “I’m fine—”

But his words dissipate into thin air because Jinhwan’s already closed the space between them and starts _manhandling_ him, the back of his hand pressed to his neck, then at his forehead, until he starts pressing and turning his head up and down, left and right, and it’s ridiculous. He’s being way too soft with Hanbin (maybe not physically right now in this very moment, but alright) because he’s _always_ too soft with Hanbin and it’s fuckin’ _ridiculous_.

“You’re sick,” he says breathlessly and _there it is_. There’s _that_ voice. “You’re fuckin’ _sick_ and you went out for a _walk_ in fuckin’ _winter_ and it’s 4am and you’re _sick_.”

Hanbin just stands there and lets his face get assaulted, but he doesn’t lean away from the warm touch, hardly ever does, just pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, only now they’re a little crooked.

“Really?” he quips with another weak cough and it’s sarcastic and asshole-y and even with his way-too-damn-big glasses on and his dumb penguin band aid and his stupid pink nose, he still never fails to leave the assholery at the door. Amazing. “I’m sick? Had no fuckin’ clue.”

“Shut up,” Jinhwan reaches up and pinches his nose, holding the younger temporarily hostage. “Why didn’t you _tell me_?”

He almost inwardly cringes at his own tone because he knows he’s doing it again. The thing. The _mom_ thing. And he knows Hanbin hates it, and he’s well aware of the fact that the younger’s a whole grown ass man, but that doesn’t mean that he’s ever gonna stop doing it. The caring thing. The _mom_ thing.

“I’m not a baby, Jinhwan,” is all Hanbin says, voice all nasally and weird because Jinhwan’s still pinching him in the nostrils with as much force as his small fingers can manage, and Jinhwan cocks an eyebrow at him before finally letting go of his nose.

“That’s not what I asked. I asked why you _didn’t. Tell. Me_ ,” he says and he pokes Hanbin in the cheek with each emphasized word.

“You’re doing that thing again, y’know. **_The_** thing.”

“Which one? The spouse thing or the mom thing?”

“Yeah, no. Both,” Hanbin eyes the messy _floof_ on top of Jinhwan’s head and runs his fingers through the too-long tresses, moving them slightly out of his eyes, and it’s for the first time tonight that he really gets a good look at him. “Definitely both.”

“ _Sue_ me,” Jinhwan just lets him fiddle with his hair, doesn’t make a move to stop him. “And you couldn’t wait ‘til the _sun was out_ , at least? Or ‘til it wasn’t freezing outside?”

Hanbin stops.

“I dunno. I just,” he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and gnaws on his puffy lower lip, and it’s like he’s trying to choose his words carefully. “Like, I just had a lot of shit on my mind? Apparently, my head thought it’d be real dandy to send me like, twelve post-depressive episodes at three o’clock in the morning, so. Guess that’s where I’m at.”

He shoots little finger guns, even adds in his own little _pew pew_ noises for effect, and laughs weakly in an attempt to remove the weight of the phrase after he says it, like he _always_ does whenever he randomly and absentmindedly blurts out a super self-deprecating joke, and it’s a little _too_ dorky and _too_ light-hearted for someone who’s just admitted to having a literal mental breakdown moments prior.

He realizes his mistake, however, when he sees Jinhwan’s eyebrows loosen with concern.

“Bin—” 

“Don’t,” Hanbin holds his hand up to stop him, and it’s almost a plea. Like he always does whenever he hears _that_ catch in the elder’s voice, because he’s physically just too tired and he doesn’t wanna have this conversation now. Or tomorrow. Or fucking _ever_. “No, I mean—just. Don’t worry about it. S’fine. I just need to get some sleep, okay?”

Jinhwan visibly deflates because it feels like a fuckin’ _lie_ , knows “I’m tired” is just a thing he says whenever he’s super fucking sad and just doesn’t wanna talk about it. It’s like an automated response. Robotic. The first five times were normal. Then, five turned to ten. Ten turned to twenty. And twenty turned to two-hundred. Now, it seems like Hanbin’s never _not_ tired. Physically _and_ mentally.

It scares him a little.

Or maybe even a lot.

He cares way too fucking much.

 _God_.

“You’re doing it again,” he says it dejectedly and he doesn’t even feel like elaborating on what ‘it’ is because they’ve been over this so many times.

_Shutting me out._

Hanbin gets it though, doesn’t know if it’s due to this weird ass magical telepathy they’ve garnered from being so close over the years, but he gets it, and his expression goes completely _soft_.

“I’m not. Hey,” hands gently cup his shoulders, and Jinhwan can feel how cold his hands are despite the thick layer of wool from his sweater separating them both. It makes him wanna scream a little. “I’m not. Okay? Look at me?”

It’s not exactly a command but Jinhwan still stares up at him. Scans his face for any glitches or skipped tracks, any uncertainty. Searches the pool of stars swimming in those endless, sable irises for any indications of something he can’t see, or maybe any silent cries for help because _maybe, just maybe, he needs me_ , and yet—

 _Nothing_.

There’s no fire in them. Just the remnants of a withered, nearly burnt out flame that could’ve burned through all eternity with how much anger and pent-up resentment for the world he kept sealed in them before.

But now, they’re calm. Gentle. Still as dark and intense as they’ve always been, but gentle.

It reminds him that Hanbin’s not the angry, immature teenager who wore his heart on his sleeve and his pain on the very surface of his once-ice cold exterior.

He’s a man now. He’s matured. Way more than anyone his age should be, but he’s matured. And he’s gentler. Warmer.

“Promise me you’re all good?”

Hanbin doesn’t say anything at first, just takes Jinhwan’s hand and encloses his pinky around his own and Jinhwan feels the corners of his lips pull up a little because this is so fucking dumb, they’re not _kids_ anymore, they don’t _have_ to pinky promise, and yet. Yet, he feels like they can’t make promises to each other without them. Because they won’t feel _real_.

He stares at Hanbin’s fingers, all long and slender and feminine. It’s a contrast to his own fingers, all baby soft and stubby and _tiny_.

“I promise I’m all good. Just a ‘lil sleepy.”

“And dumb,” Jinhwan snorts when he notices the glasses slowly slipping from Hanbin’s nose once again.  “God, you _really_ gotta stop wearing these. You look like a dweeb.”

“I’m _blind_ ,” Hanbin rolls his eyes, probably from being called a dweeb twice in the span of a whole five minutes. “And you said you liked ‘em.”

_Because I do._

_Nerd._

“Yeah, well,” Jinhwan reaches up to peel the glasses off his face completely and sticks them in the front of Hanbin’s thin shirt pocket instead. “I take it back.”

He steps back a little and gives Hanbin a quick once over, almost heaving out a little mental sigh of relief to see that he’s still in one piece.

He looks like he died eight years ago, woke up, had a shot of everclear and battery acid, then died again with how _tired_ he looks, piled on top of the fact that he’s fucking _sick_ for the twentieth time this month alone and just literally never told anybody, but he’s in one piece. He’s safe, he’s okay, and he’s in _one_ _piece_.

That’s all Jinhwan can ask for.

So, he looks down at the floor. Hugs himself with his free hand tightly in the warmth of his sweater, and the sleeve pools at his side where he abandoned it for the comforting heat that embraces him in the woven cotton. It’s only them in the hallway, and he really doesn’t know how the fuck he’s the only one that heard Hanbin trying to break into his own apartment given how loud the younger was about it, but he figures it’s because everyone else is in deep sleep. It’s been a busy week at the café, they’re all exhausted, and it’s only gonna get busier this week with all the stupid events and whatnot the district manager’s making them do since spring’s just around the corner, meaning they’re about to get bombarded with a shit ton of work traffic since people are actually willing to go outside now. That, plus it’s 4am. Everyone’s pretty much knocked the fuck out by now.

Hanbin releases the link on their pinkies and intertwines their fingers instead.  “Did I wake you up?”

It’s apologetic and genuine and _sweet_ and it makes Jinhwan smile a little. Just a little.

“Mm,” he hums, voice still sticky with sleep now that all his adrenaline died out for the night. “I think the whole _breaking into your own house_ _at ass o’clock in the morning_ thing might have something to do with it, but I dunno. Could be wrong.”

Hanbin mumbles out a sheepish _sorry_ , but Jinhwan just shakes his head and waves it off with a tired _“s’fine, don’t worry about it.”_

The questions hover over his head like invisible speech bubbles, but his lips run dry and his throat closes up because he can’t _human_ and he’s supposed to always have his shit together because he’s the oldest but he _doesn’t_ , that’s Yunhyeong’s job. Maybe if he was completely fucked out of his ass right now on something strong, _really_ strong, then possibly. But he’s not, so suddenly emotions just don’t fucking exist.

He needs a fucking _shot_ right now.

Or maybe just a whole keg.

_Do you want me to stay with you? Do you need anything?_

_Do you need **me**?_

He wants to ask.

But he fucking _can’t_.

He only sort of hates himself for it.

 “I’m sleepin’ over,” is all he says instead and he shuffles past Hanbin, the too-long sleeves flapping limply by his sides, and Hanbin just lets him invade his own damn home because they’re both so used to it at this point. Him coming over uninvited, just to sleep over at his place. Vice versa. It’s just like their days from middle school all the way through college, only they’re grown ass men now with their own homes and their own rent to pay.

Unlike Jinhwan’s apartment that’s a bit smaller and homier, Hanbin’s place is more spacious and so heinously organized that it’s almost _un_ comfortable. Because without his actual presence, save for his clothes, it could easily be mistaken as unlived in. It’s literally _always_ clean, never any spic or spec in sight, nothing’s ever out of place, and everything’s just militarily in order. It’s almost scary how much it mirrors Hanbin. Orderly, and obsessed with perfection.

As soon as they enter Hanbin’s bedroom, Jinhwan heads straight for his closet, and Hanbin watches his retreating frame with furrowed eyebrows.

“What’re you doing? The bed’s not in the fucking closet, Jinhwan—”

“I’m just gettin’ comfy first!” his small voice echoes from the depths of Hanbin’s literal dungeon of a closet. There’s more shuffling for a few seconds before the grey wool sweater and the strawberry-printed pajama bottoms he was wearing moments prior fly out of the closet and just _barely_ miss Hanbin’s face, and Jinhwan finally emerges from behind the door with a looser pair of Hanbin’s black joggers and this same infamous sweater that’s been in the younger’s wardrobe since his like, sophomore year in high school? Freshman year? He really can’t even remember, he’s had it for so long.

Most of Hanbin’s clothes are already way too oversized for his own taller, slenderer frame, so almost ninety-percent of his sweaters look like dresses on Jinhwan. That doesn’t stop the elder from stealing them from him, though. He’s pretty sure he’s lost about ten of his sweaters to Jinhwan this month alone, but the elder always wears this one the most. A nice but slightly faded red cotton knit, with loose stitching at the hems of the sleeves. And he really doesn’t know _why_ , given it’s the oldest, most _basic_ looking one he has, but he doesn’t question it. Just lets Jinhwan wear it as much as he wants, whenever he wants.

“Alright,” Jinhwan claps his hands together, does a little double bounce on the back of his heels, and his hair bounces in sync with the action. “ _Sleepy time_.”

“Wow,” Hanbin blinks at him, really trying to dissect how this man just turned twenty-six a whole month ago. “You’re really never gonna let me wear that sweater again, are you?”

“Nope.” Jinhwan pinches at the hem that almost reaches his knees and starts flapping the freakishly long sleeves like a duck and he looks so _tiny_ and so goddamn _stupid_. “Honestly, you should just straight up give it to me at this point.

“If I gave you that, you’d just make me give you my whole wardrobe,” Hanbin deadpans flatly when Jinhwan has to mini-catapult himself onto the mattress and he’s _this close_ to making a height joke, but he refrains at the mercy of his own life. “And uh, I kinda need clothes too. Y’know, with the whole _public indecency being extremely illegal and socially unacceptable_ thing? Yeah, that.”

“Welp. Good thing I’m into exhibitionism.”

Hanbin almost trips despite literally standing completely still. “You suck and I hate you.”

“Correction. I’m amazing and you _love_ me. Now c’mere.”

The elder opens his arms and makes little grabby motions towards him. He sees Hanbin visibly stiffen at that, and he has to physically fight back the urge to laugh.

“ _Jinhwan_ ,” it’s not even a whine. Not even a protest. It sounds more defeated than anything. Like the mere idea sounds of it makes him want to astral project into the void and just fucking _die_ but in reality, he’ll probably just skit scat his way onto the bed and cuddle with him anyway because they’re just fucking weirdos and Hanbin’s got the expressional capacity of a corn chip but he’s always down to cuddle, even initiates it about 70% of the time because he’s always cold and Jinhwan’s always so warm and soft and inviting and willing and _soft_ and it’s just a thing they do because they’re _them_.

He almost hates it. How transparent he is. How Jinhwan knows how transparent he is. Almost hates him for it, even. But not really, because he’ll never hate Jinhwan. Not in this lifetime, or even the next.

“I’m sick,” he stupidly tries to reason and it does jack shit to help his case because they’ve done this so many times. They do it all the time and he loves it _every fucking **time**_ , but he still says it anyway because he’s an idiot.

 “And?”

“Uh,” he tries to swallow, but almost chokes. “You could get sick.”

“I’ll live. Also, you woke me up at—” Jinhwan peers over his shoulder to Hanbin’s little mickey mouse alarm clock in the darkness, _fucking_ _nerd_ , narrows his eyes at the fuzzy numbers and struggles to make out the time as it bleeds a white haze around the edges. “— _four_ o’clock in the morning. So,” he sits up slightly. “ _Cuddles_. But I mean, if you don’t _want_ ‘em, I can just go back to my—”

“ _Okay_ , shut up,” Hanbin points at him aggressively as his way of saying _don’t fucking move, I’ll riot_ and cuts him off with a resigned sigh, though there’s no real malice behind it because there never is any real malice between them, and he’s already kicking off his shoes as he makes his way over. “Scooch.”

So Jinhwan does just that.

Cuddling’s always a little weird with them, though. Because Jinhwan sweats like he’s run a relay round across the world and _then_ some when he’s literally just standing still, existing, breathing, _producing carbon dioxide_ , and it’s only a little gross (or maybe a lotta gross), but he’s also so unbelievably fucking _soft_ it’s almost ridiculous and he always just naturally smells like peaches for some weird reason, so Hanbin kinda just sucks it up and does it anyway because he loves doing it. The cuddling. Craves the physical affection at all times, never shies away from Jinhwan whenever he offers it. He’d quite actually rather ram himself into incoming traffic first and _die_ than admit that, but they both know it anyway.

And Hanbin’s always picky when it comes to cuddling. Junhoe’s too strong. Yunhyeong’s a goddamn noodle. Donghyuk’s too grabby with his hands. Jiwon would quite _actually_ rather die. And Chanwoo just hates being touched no matter what the occasion.

But Jinhwan’s perfect. Not too rough, not too detached. And again, he’s so _soft_.

They’re about halfway under the covers when he feels Hanbin trembling from the cold, the faint noise of his teeth chattering breaking the silence and Jinhwan feels a cold shiver shoot up his spine the second they make contact.

“Jesus fucking christ,” another cold shiver, and the worry returns in his voice. “Bin, you’re _freezing_.”

He gets a weak cough and a pained whine in response. “I’m _dying_.”

Jinhwan has to physically fight off the urge to roll his eyes, but stops himself when he remembers Hanbin probably wouldn’t be able to see it anyway with how dark it is in the room. “You’re not dying. Stop being a Libra.”

“Wow, you hate Libras now? Pretty sure this is Libraphobia.”

“That’s _literally_ not a word, but okay—”

“It is now. ‘Cause I made it up.” Hanbin scooches closer to get a little comfier, and the cold shivers die down almost immediately. “God, you’re so fucking _warm_.”

He melts like butter, practically oozing onto the mattress and he lets out a soft sigh he didn’t even realize he was holding when he feels Jinhwan start enclosing his arms around him, which shoots the much-needed heat through his freezing body almost immediately. They’re wrapped up in a mini cocoon, Hanbin’s face buried in his neck with his limbs draped over his smaller frame, and it’s…yeah, it’s _extremely_ intimate, even for _them_ , but if anyone notices it, no one says anything.

Stuttered breaths start hitching near the exposed skin where the stretched collar on the sweater had fallen, and he squirms almost violently at how ticklish it feels. Because this is already entering the _danger, I’m sensitive to any kinda touching whatsoever_ zone and he’s already hyper aware of how clumsy he is, so this could definitely lead to some violent kicking or elbowing and he doesn’t wanna actually hurt Hanbin in the process of trying to get away.

“Okay. Okay, Bin? Pal,” Jinhwan gives him a few light slaps on the side of his cheek, and he gets a small whine and a slightly sleepy _what~_ in response. “Yeah, you gotta stop that _asap_. Like, right now. Because it tickles, and I’m not about to feel bad if I accidentally give you a black eye or some shit.”

“Nah, you’d definitely feel bad. Prolly even cry, too,” Hanbin lifts his head to look up at him finally, the dimmed sunrise peeking through the blinds leaving a pale blue stripe on the side of his cheek.  “‘Member that time you kicked me in the face when I was sparring with you?”

The squirming stops. “Okay, that was different. You were _bleeding_.”

“You still cried, though. A lot.”

“Shut up.”

“Like, a _lot_ a lot. Pretty sure you went on for hours.”

“Han _bin_.”

“ _Kidding_.”

“Okay, I _could_ just let you freeze to death.”

“Yeah, then you gotta raise those five kids all on your own,” Hanbin says suddenly through closed eyelids, smiling when Jinhwan starts choking violently on his own spit at the words. _Asshole_. “Your choice though, pal.”

Jinhwan wrinkles his nose and mumbles out an _“I’m not their_ mom _, Bin,”_ but it’s definitely a lie because he _is_ but he’s never gonna fucking _say that_ with his own two lips. He’s twenty-six and he’s a grown ass _man_ , dammit.

Hanbin snorts, more so at the lie than at him directly.

“Nah, you’re definitely their mom. Minus the uterus.”

“Shut up,” Jinhwan pokes him in the cheek again, but it’s gentle. “Go to sleep, we still gotta get up in the morning.”

It’s like he can physically _hear_ glass shattering and tires screeching the second the words leave his lips, realization brutally stabbing him in the artery.

It’s almost 5 o’clock. They’ve gotta be in the shop and ready to open up in the morning.

 _The morning_ as in two hours.

 _Work_ as in death.

Suddenly he wants to howl.

Or just fucking _die_.

“Wow,” he stares at the clock again, internally dying when he sees it mock him as it reads **4:47am**. “Wow, we really gotta be up in an _hour_. Suddenly I can’t read numbers and time doesn’t exist.”

“Big fucking _yikes_ ,” Hanbin makes a face into his neck, and it still _tickles_. “ _God_. You think they’d still make me come in for a shift if I just faked my own death or something? I’m thinkin’ freight train accident. Or abducted by a cannibalism cult, maybe.”

Jinhwan snorts at that and it’s light. Probably still delirious from the tiredness. Suddenly Hanbin feels worse for waking him up with his own dumbassery this early in the morning.

“Can’t. If you fake die, then _I_ gotta run the café. Which is never gonna fucking happen, so. Tough,” Jinhwan sits up a little to get comfier. “Plus, I don’t think a cannibalism cult would be realistic. You’re like, ten pounds.”

That earns him an array of light pinches in his side, only he can’t squirm away from it all because Hanbin’s got him enclosed in this freakishly strong bear-like embrace, so he just sits there and awaits his own death.

Kim Jinhwan. Death by tickling.

Rest in peace.

In the midst of the tickling, Hanbin opens and closes his mouth a few times. Then the tickling stops, and _then_ , “You could stay up and suffer with me?”

Jinhwan freezes and clears his throat because he’s _sleepy_ and that sounds like a terrible fucking idea. “Uhm.”

“Jinhwan. I’ll fuckin’ _die_ ,” Hanbin reaches up and gives his nose a little _boop,_ and Jinhwan makes a face because _assault_. “Come _on_.”

Another _boop_ to his nose, but Jinhwan still just kinda lays there and doesn’t fight it because this bed’s kinda warm and big and he’s _sleepy_. And usually he’s all up for listening to Hanbin talk about the philosophy of the entire universe at 4am on a good day, but right now his body’s telling him to just go to sleep. “Right. It’s just that I’m tired and you woke me up with your attempted burglary, so.”

“ _Nani_.”

Jinhwan’s entire body freezes up at the strategic use of the rare nickname, the one that’s only saved for him when they’re both alone, the one that he’s not sure if it’s laced with some kinda weird voodoo spell or some shit because Hanbin’s the only one who uses it, only one who’s _allowed_ to use it, and he uses it specifically to drill all the way down to his soft spot and it always gets to him. _Always_.

_Smart move, asshole._

“That’s,” Jinhwan swallows and he’s sure he’s dying. Probably already dead. “That’s a nuclear weapon and you _know_ it,”

“Worked, though. Please?”

It’s the way his voice _lifts_ when he says ‘please’ that makes Jinhwan glance down to see Hanbin looking up at him, all doe-eyed and expectant, and he regrets it _immediately_. He looks like a little puppy with his stupid fucking _face_ and his stupid eyes and they’re so big and _brown_ and he _hates_ it. He hates Hanbin.

Their ten-plus-year inseparable friendship can fuckin’ _die_ , he’s tired and he needs _sleep_.

“I—” _wanna go back to sleep_ is what he definitely wants to say but he can’t and the words don’t leave his lips at _all_ because Hanbin’s still boring holes into his face and theoretically _melting it_ with how hard he’s staring, and he feels himself physically imploding because he knows he’s definitely gonna have to sacrifice another night of sleep.  
He’s so soft.

He hates being soft.

Hanbin can fucking _choke_.

“Okay,” Jinhwan _actually_ hates himself. “Okay, just. Can we at least fix whatever the fuck’s goin’ on here? ‘Cause I’m ti—” he catches himself before he calls himself _tiny_ because that’s completely off-limits and there’s absolutely no fucking way he’s about to roast himself like that. Not out loud. “… _smaller_ and you’re kinda crushing my ribs, so.”

He motions to the current position they’re in, Hanbin’s body curled up against him and pretty much on top of him at this point, _when’d that happen_ , with himself all caged in and almost suffocating underneath it all. He’s glad Hanbin looks like he’s having the fucking time of his life, but he’s dying and Hanbin’s squeezing him a little too tight and he’s _dying_.

Hanbin flips their position completely, flops down beside him onto the mattress and instead pulls Jinhwan up close, _so_ close, so that his cheek is pressed up against his chest and he’s got his arms enclosed around him so gently, so delicately, the tip of his chin resting on top of Jinhwan’s head, and—

Oh. Cool.

This is…fine.

“This a ‘lil better?”

 _Better_ is the understatement of the goddamn millennium, Jinhwan wants to yell, because he already feels his eyelids fluttering shut and this position’s making him feel so comfy and content and _small_.

“Mhmm,” is all he says with a light hum and he presses his hand to Hanbin’s chest out of habit, broad and sticky, and he already feels himself drifting off to sleep at the rhythmic hummingbird beat under his palm that he’ll never get tired of hearing. Prays he’ll never come close to hearing it stop.

_Badump. Badump. Badump. Badump. Badump._

“Yo, _earth to theoretical spouse_ ,” he hears Hanbin’s fingers snapping in his face, _asshole_ , and it’s enough to make him startle a bit. “Wake the fuck up, you said you weren’t gonna fall asleep this time. _Literally_ not even like, two minutes ago.”

“I’m not! I’m just,” yeah, he’s definitely about to fall asleep. “Just restin’ the lids for a sec.”

“Uh- _huh_.”

“I swear!” Jinhwan raises his right hand like he’s in court about to swear on the bible, and his little fingers peek out from the long sleeves. “ _Solemnly_.”

“Right,” Hanbin’s still unconvinced. “Never mind, just go back to sleep.”

He almost _instantly_ regrets saying it though because not even a full thirty-seconds of silence pass and he hears a familiar light snoring come from in between his arms, the vibrations murmuring off his chest in small waves. He pokes him, right below his eye where the little heart-shaped mole lies on his soft cheek, and all he gets in response is one loud ass _snore_.

Hanbin gapes at him in disbelief because how in **_the_** fuck.

And not even a full five minutes pass and Jinhwan’s already knocked the absolute _fuck_ out because he’s a _traitor_ , much to his shit luck. He knows he’s not about to get very much sleep, or _any_ sleep really, but he’s not freezing his ass off and dying anymore, which is really all he can ask for.

He just hopes he doesn’t become a victim of literal _homicide_ from trying to wake Jinhwan up in the next hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so Hanbin's a raging insomniac and Jinhwan's an irresponsible half-adult who keeps a baseball bat near his closet. amazing.
> 
> next chap features everybody losing their shit at work, peeps!


	2. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um warnings bc the word fuck gets said so many times i'm fhshfkls 
> 
> y'all I had to split this into two chaps cuz it was getting way too long so here's a lil kinda sorta double update? Not really bc I'm writing the last part of the next chap but sTILL
> 
> also I died for a while cuz like...school but I'm out now so let's fuckin GO lads

“ _Donghyuk_. Holy _shit_ , would you just—."

" _Shhhhh_. I'm _searching_."

Jiwon’s about ready to _die_ at this point, but apparently Donghyuk just doesn’t give a single shit.  

"Yeah, I'm searching too. For the literal will to live 'cause you won't hurry the fuck up.”

“ _Patience,_ man. You can’t just _rush_ these things.”

“I can if I’ve had to hear you sing the fuckin’ jeopardy theme song for a whole ten goddamn minutes.”

 “ _Fine_ ,” Donghyuk retrieves a gummy worm from his palm and chews it seriously, eyes focused as he scans the entirety of the café floor like he’s an FBI agent scouting for an escaped murderer on the loose, ‘til his eyes finally land on someone, some _dude_ , and he points, the gummy worm flopping sadly in his grip. “That one. Gimmie a number on that one.”

Jiwon shakes his head. Adjusts his flower crown a little and grimaces when he gets glitter on his hands from touching it, but just wipes it on his apron. “Nah dude, you know the rules. You spot ‘em, you guess ‘em.”

“Okay, that didn’t even rhyme.”

“Fuck off, just say a goddamn number.”

Donghyuk snorts, purses his lips and narrows his eyes in serious thought. “Hm. _Solid_ eight.”

Jiwon almost chokes on his spit. “Eight _inches?”_ he nearly _squeaks_ , eyes wide in disbelief. “Nah, you gotta be fuckin’ with me, dude. There is no fuckin’ _way_ —"

“Look, I’m _telling_ you, his dick’s huge. Look at him,” Donghyuk literally _points_ at this random dude, not even trying to be discreet anymore. “ _Definitely_ big enough to rearrange the _entirety_  of my anatomy.”

Hanbin feels his entire face heat up from where he’s standing behind the counter and it does _shit_ all for how badly his head’s killing him right now.

So, this is it. This is really how he’s gonna die.

He’s gonna have an aneurysm and _die_ and the last thing he’s gonna hear is an entire soliloquy of Donghyuk talking about getting wrecked by some rando dick and this is it. This is _it_.

A fucking _glorious_ way start to his day, really.

“Guys,” he calls out through closed eyelids, but he’s ignored. Of _course_ he’s ignored.

Jiwon continues munching on some gummies, the bag clutched tightly in his hands and he passes some more over to Donghyuk. “Nah, man. I’d say he’s ‘bout like, five inches tops. Six if I’m feelin’ pretty fuckin’ generous.”

“Guys.”

“Yeah? How would _you_ know?”

Jiwon shoots him a pointed look. “Dude it’s like, common knowledge. Fucker’s got _jorts_ on with high knee socks. C’mon that’s like, the fuckin’ _power bottom-3000_ starter kit.”

“ _That_ ,” Donghyuk points at him, gummy worm in-hand for extra emphasis, “is the _gayest_ fucking thing you’ve ever said. I dunno if I should cry in relief or be concerned.”

“How’s that fuckin’ _gay?_ ”

“We’re guessing dick sizes like it’s a goddamn weather forecast and you’re really gonna ask me that? How’re we still roomies, again? ‘Cause you’re like, the actual human manifestation of ‘no homo.’ Which is fucking stupid because you do, in fact, have _extreme_ homo tendencies.”

“ _Guys_.”

“Okay _listen_ , technically _you’re_ guessing and I’m just agreeing or disagreeing. Total fuckin’ difference. So _please_ enlighten me on how the fuck that makes me have ‘extreme homo tendencies.’”

“I dunno, you tell me,” Donghyuk balls his hand up into a fist and holds it up to Jiwon’s lips, like it’s a mic, and he drops his voice about two octaves to impersonate him. “ _Fellas, is it gay to wanna suck your homie’s dick?_ ”

“Fuck you,” Jiwon shoves Donghyuk’s hand away and glares at him, but it looks fucking stupid because he classily adjusts his flower crown as soon as he does it. “ _You’re_ a dick.”

Hanbin rolls his eyes when they start bickering back and forth. He leans over to grab the spray bottle of multi-purpose cleaner and squirts both of them with it like a cat owner training his cats to stop pissing all over his carpet, and they both squeak as they nearly ram themselves into each other from the shock.

Hanbin watches them, _completely_ straight-faced as he holds up the bottle again like he’s about to chuck a stick of dynamite at them before they even have a chance to book it for the hills. “So you two still deaf, or do I need to use this thing again?”

“The _fuck_ , man?” Jiwon’s eyes are wide, and he’s doing this weird ass wiggly dance, like he’s just been set on fire as he desperately tries to fling off the remnants on his shirt. “Isn’t there like, bleach in that shit?”

Hanbin doesn’t even answer that because he has no fucking idea, there probably is bleach in it but _oh well_ , and he puts the bottle back underneath the counter. “Yeah, so it’s just that I’ve been standing here for like, twenty minutes and you two haven’t heard shit I said, so. Fuck you.”

“Oh,” Donghyuk stops wiggling too and his eyebrows raise into his fringe. “Shit, my bad. You say somethin’, boss?”

Hanbin rubs a hand down his face. Rakes his eyes over where he’d been arranging all the syrup flavoring bottles and the tea assortments behind the counter all morning and winces when the dull throbbing in his temple gets a little stronger.

“Okay,” he begins, all energy seeping out of his lungs. “ _First_ of all, stop calling me that. Next person who calls me that’s getting fired.”

Damn, does he even have the power to do that? Probably not but saying “you’re fired” after every single minor inconvenience ever is kinda just a thing he does at this point and it’s fucking _dumb_ and he definitely should cut that out but he won’t because it makes this job a little less unbearable. Just a _little_.

Donghyuk gives him a confused look. “Call you what?”

“ _Boss_ ,” Hanbin runs a hand through his hair, shivers as soon as the word leaves his lips. “I dunno, like it’s just super weird? And it makes me feel old, so. Quit it.”

Jiwon snorts. “We kinda _have_ to call you that now. District manager complained last time ‘cause he thought we were bein’ too unprofessional with you on the job or some dumb shit, so,” he shrugs. “No can do, buckaroo.”

“Jiwon. For the sake of my _eternal sanity_ ,” Hanbin rubs at his temples, voice completely distant, “I’m literally _begging_ you to never say that again.”

“Really? ‘Cause Jinhwan thought it was pretty fuckin’ funny last time I said it.”

 “Um. Was he also on fucking _crack?_ ”

“He’s _your_ wife, man. Pretty sure you should know that, not me.”

“Okay look, he’s not my w—”

“Not like it matters,” Donghyuk pops in with a shrug, tosses yet another gummy into his mouth and beams. “You’d never fire us either way.”

Hanbin’s lungs deflate, and he almost forgets how physically _fucking_ draining it is being around both Jiwon and Donghyuk when they’re linked up. “Yeah? Why’s that? ‘Cause I’m gettin’ pretty close here.” And he’s only half lying. Because Donghyuk’s a sweetie pie and the customers love the absolute shit out of him and so does he, so he’d never. Doesn’t think he _could_ ever. But he doesn’t know how many more times he has to hear one of Donghyuk’s explicit scenarios of getting dicked down, _hoe chronicles,_ the younger likes to call ‘em, without straight up losing his shit.

Donghyuk throws up his arms enthusiastically and practically _shouts_ , “Because we’re family and you love us too much!”

Hanbin winces at his volume, and it’s too loud. It’s _way_ too loud, why’s everyone so fucking _loud_ today? “Um, yikes,” he says dryly. “ _That_ sounds like a reach.”

Donghyuk _tsks_ and shakes his head, cups a hand on Hanbin’s shoulder. “You know acting like a hard ass is like, something you suck at, right?” he says plainly, almost like he’s _cooing_. “Like, you _really_ suck at it.”

Hanbin _growls_ at him, or at least attempts to because it comes out sounding like more of a little puppy snarl than anything else, and Donghyuk quickly retreats his hand away with wide eyes to avoid getting his whole arm bitten off.

“Nah,” Jiwon coolly leans against the counter, and Hanbin internally convulses when Jiwon rests his elbow on the spot he just wiped down about eighty times not even a full five minutes ago. “Nah, it’s ‘cause Jinhwan would fuckin’ strangle him if he fired any of us. Pretty sure that’s reason enough.”

“Whatever,” Hanbin mutters grumpily, but he doesn’t fight it because it’s only _kinda_ true. And he’s not sure when Santa decided to just fuckin’ waltz right into Korea on a _weekday_ when it's not even fucking Christmas but he’s definitely sure he hears faint sleigh bells _jingling_ and fucking _ring-ting-tingling_ in his ears and either he’s literally going insane, or his headache’s reached its peak and he needs sleep. “Why’re you two back here harassing me, again?”

Jiwon points over at Donghyuk. “He’s here. He’s got gummies. I like gummies,” he says simply. “Also, we kinda deserved a break after dealin’ with our last customer. Pretty sure she cleaned out our entire fuckin’ inventory with all the weird shit she ordered.”

Hanbin raises an eyebrow. “What? _Which_ customer?”

“See the lady at table four? Bad highlights, red lipstick.”

Hanbin's eyes briefly scan over to said table. To said lady with _bad highlights, red lipstick_ , and it takes him a fat second until he recognizes her and _oh_.

“Shit,” he leans over the counter, face buried in his hands. “ _Shit_ , is that the _animal rights activism lady_?”

Donghyuk grimaces. “Yeah, man. It’s her.”

Hanbin peers over at her again through his fingers as she continues eating away at a mountain of salad (they have salad? since when do they even have salad here? Because he’s pretty goddamn sure they don’t have any fucking salad), visibly cringing when he catches sight of her shirt that reads _‘milk is the antichrist’_ in bright, intimidating red letters.

A cold shiver courses through his body as he recalls the super weird encounter they all had with her the first time she came here. He can never enjoy oreos in peace ever again.

 “I thought we all agreed to call a _priest_ if she ever set foot in here again,” and he groans. Violently resists the urge to slam him face into the counter to make his head shut the fuck up with how loud the ringing in his ears is.

“The hell were we supposed to do, man? Give her a carrot and kindly ask her to leave?” Jiwon shakes his head, leans his elbows onto the counter. “Vegans are fuckin’ crazy. Like, I finally tried that quinoa shit the other day? Y’know like, in a salad or whatever? Almost _killed_ me,” he bites the head off of another gummy worm. “I almost fuckin’ _died_.”

Donghyuk gives Jiwon a weird look over his shoulder. “Wait, pause. Why a _carrot_?”

“Iunno,” Jiwon just shrugs. “The fuck else do vegans even eat?”

 “You’re an idiot,” an eye roll. “Anyways, dude at table eight. Gel slick, blonde. _Ridiculous_ ass,” Donghyuk says it bluntly and it makes Hanbin blush to all hell. “C’mon, gimmie some pointers here, lads.”

“Donghyuk,” Hanbin runs a hand down his face. Hesitantly looks over to who the hell _gel slick blonde_ even is until his eyes reach the said table and _oh_. Well. Yeah, gel slick blonde’s ass _is_ impressive but _still_. “Isn’t it kinda _early_ for dick scoping?”

“Fuckin’ _drag_ him,” Jiwon whoops from the sidelines, twirling a gummy worm in the air like it’s a cheerleading pom pom, and Donghyuk rolls his eyes at him.

“First of all, it’s _never_ too early for dick scoping. You gotta be up and ready for this kinda shit 24/7,” Donghyuk does a little double clap. “Now c’mon, do the honors for me, boss.”

Hanbin briefly looks up at the ceiling. Prays to whoever or whatever the hell’s up there to just kill him right where he stands, but it doesn’t work, so he opts to just awkwardly scratch the back of his neck. “Um,” god, he’s so _bad_ at this shit. Poor gel slick blonde. “I dunno, he looks like a nice person, so. Seems like he’s a real keeper.”

And he’s not even surprised when Donghyuk shoots him the weirdest look, like he’s just grown three whole heads and eight more asses.

“ _He looks like a nice person?_ ” Donghyuk echoes him, eyes wide. “Holy shit. Holy _shit_ , are you sure we’re friends?” he then turns to Jiwon, still incredulous. “Are we friends with him? Why’re we friends with him, again?”

Jiwon’s outright _cackling_ at this point. “The fuck’re you even asking him about dudes for? His body count’s like, what? One? Two?”

Hanbin’s ears turn completely pink, his voice coming out way weaker than he intends, and he almost entirely hates himself for it. “Okay, _that’s_ offensive.”

“Good,” Jiwon catapults a gummy bear at his face, laughing even louder when Hanbin just stares at him with dead, unwavering eyes as it bounces off his forehead. “That was kinda the whole fuckin’ point.”

“Stop wasting my _gummies_ ,” Donghyuk snatches the bag back with an eye roll. “And anyways, dude looks like he’d be a power top. ‘Specially with that ass.”

Hanbin rubs at his forehead, frowning down at the gummy worm on the counter that’s just assaulted him. “Why’s that even matter? I thought you _liked_ power tops.”

Donghyuk clicks his tongue, tilts his head to the side and keeps his eyes locked on the man as he coolly leans against the counter and continues _way less than discreetly_ checking gel slick blonde out. “I do, but like? I dunno, he’s kinda givin’ me _closeted deadbeat dad of four kids_ vibes with that plaid shirt, so. Yeah, don’t think I’m gonna risk that.”

“Um,” Hanbin doesn’t know what the fuck that means, doesn’t know _why_ that description was so heinously specific but he also doesn’t question it any further. Saves himself the extra headache. “Okay. Coolio.”

All nice asses and big dicks aside, he’s pretty damn stoked that he hasn’t run into anyone rude today. Because a) it’s a busy day and he’s already literally just not in the fucking _mood_ , and b) his head hurts, so having anyone yell at him in this state would either make him keel over and _die_ or put him straight into hulk rage mode and he’s rather just fucking _not_.

They’ve had their fair share of shit customers in the past though, which is pretty ironic considering how chill the entire setup of the café is, but apparently people just love being fucking psychos no matter where or what the occasion. Like the one time some asshole eight-year-old boy scout troop started beating the shit out of Jiwon with jumbo candy canes around Christmas time because he told them that Santa Clause was, in actual living quote, “ _fuckin’ bullshit_.”

Wow. Yeah, that was a _wild_ season.

Hanbin unpacks the rest of the tea packages and just places them on the shelves behind him. And usually he’d go batshit on whoever forgets to sort them properly, _perfectly_ , but right now he just _does not_ give a fuck. There’s too many flavors and his head’s about to explode and the freshly-brewed coffee in the air’s starting to blur between that fine line of being both heavenly and fucking _unbearable_.

It’s when he accidentally drops a box of lavender green tea and bends down to pick it up, only to have all the blood rush to his face so fast that he nearly falls over that he realizes he needs to sit down and chill the fuck out _asap_.

“Hey, man,” he feels Jiwon clap him on the back, and it only wakes him up a little more. “You good? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Hanbin has to physically hold back the urge to start laughing hysterically.

Sleep.

What a McFucking _concept_.

 “Just. I’m fine, just get back to work, alright?” he rubs his eyelids with the back of his fist. “And if anyone else asks for a manager while I’m gone, tell ‘em I died. Of like. I dunno, fatal stabbing wound or some shit.”

Donghyuk raises an eyebrow at his retreating back. “You goin’ on break already?”

“No, but I feel like shit, so. I just need like ten minutes,” he says, then pauses. “Actually no, I need like, half an hour,” _I need all of goddamn eternity_ , _that’s what I need_. “Only hit me up if it’s an emergency, alright? Seeing a cute dog outside is _not_ an emergency,” he stops, turns around for a second. “Wait, okay but like, send me a pic if you see one anyway. I’m serious.”

Cute dogs are an emergency.

An extremely, _entirely_ reasonable emergency.

Jiwon puffs out his chest and gives him a little salute. “No prob, boss.”

“Jiwon, stop _calling me that_ ,” Hanbin rakes a hand through his hair, cocks an eyebrow as he looks around him. “Also, did Jinhwan just fucking die or something? Like, I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen him in hours.”

He knows it’s busy as hell and Jinhwan’s probably busy too but the last time he saw him was when they clocked in. Which was like, four hours ago. Meanwhile, he’s been stuck back here sorting tea and syrup bottles and sassing customers who ask him stupid ass questions and quite literally choking over how fucking strong the coffee in the air is.

Damn.

But he doesn’t miss him. He doesn’t.

“Oh yeah,” Donghyuk pipes distractedly, now scrolling through his phone, and Hanbin’s too tired to give enough of a fuck to tell him to put it away on the job. “Mom’s on the floor doin’ mom shit or whatevs.”

Hanbin looks at him and blinks. Waits for him to elaborate further because he literally doesn’t know what the fuck that even means. “Okay? Define _mom shit or whatevs_.”

“Iunno, being responsible? Helping out while we feast on these gummies?" Donghyuk pops some more of _said gummies_ into his mouth. "Pullin’ a sugar daddy, maybe?”

It’s so fucking _nonchalant_ that it makes Hanbin choke violently on air, but neither of them notices him dying in the background.

Jiwon shakes his head. “Nah man, I feel like he’d probably have a sugar baby instead,” he looks up at the ceiling, like it’s a serious debate. “Not the other way around.”

Donghyuk shrugs. “Maybe. Pretty sure he’s capable of both, though.”

Hanbin rubs his forehead, sure as hell his blood pressure’s already rising. “Okay, so can we stop mentioning Jinhwan and sugar daddies? _Please?_ ”

Donghyuk glances at him and gives him a pitiful look, placing a hand over his heart. “Awww. Is somebody feelin’ a little _inferior?_ ”

“Literally _fuck off_. Just get back to work.”

 

~

  

Okay, so maybe he’s just exaggerating. Busy days aren’t even that bad. Ish.

Actually nah, that’s a lie. They fucking _suck_.

And Hanbin doesn’t know what it is about busy days in particular, but apparently, it’s the day that all the hostile fake-philosophical vegans and the deranged single businesswomen emerge from their bat caves and come waltzing into their establishment to start yelling at all of them about really dumb shit. He doesn’t have the heart to ever tell them that this is only a fucking _café_ , and real fairies don’t _actually_ live here, so unfortunately ninety-five percent of the things on their menu aren’t _actually_ gonna be made out of pixie dust and kale.

It’s the everyday routine on the floor today. Chanwoo and Junhoe are both busy in the kitchen cleaning also while helping Yunhyeong practically shit out pastries at ungodly cyborg speeds as Yunhyeong pretty much _forbids_ anyone else from coming in and helping out. Then there’s Donghyuk and Jinhwan on the floor helping out serving orders because they’re the only two in this circle who actually don’t hate talking to people, and Jiwon’s up front making all the drinks. So, Hanbin’s everywhere, literally fucking _everywhere_ , pretty much doing an ugly combo of all three. _Also_ making sure everyone doesn’t die on his watch somehow. _Managerial_ shit.

He doesn’t know if this flower crown is just on _way_ too tight (yeah, they gotta wear flower crowns with the uniforms. Blame Donghyuk) or if he’s just really in this _shit_ of a mood, but this is just a whole lot. And usually, the aroma of Yunhyeong’s cute little fantasy-themed pastries and the tea brewing remnants are enough to give him a nice old _kick_ in the morning, but today, the mass cauldron of strong smells and the annoying Celtic fiddle tune fairy music (again, _entirely_ Donghyuk’s fault) that’s been playing nonstop since they opened up shop is about to drive him fucking _insane_ , and it’s all doing jack shit for his head ache.

The café carries on in slow motion around him as he makes his way towards the back of the shop, and he takes the time to really get a good look at what the fuck’s even happening. He looks up top at the “canopy,” which is really just an upside-down meadow of long hanging plants and flowers on the ceiling that ring around the window up top that filters in the natural sunlight prettily. He looks around at the full dining room, eyes the wooden bar stools and the sleek wooden round tables and the plush cushions in the little seating area near the far windows. At all the people and the families chatting it up with each other. At the white noise of indistinct conversations and light laughter around him.

Okay, so it’s not all that bad. It’s not.

Because as annoying as it gets trying to literally exist and function in this place with this completely fucking horrendous lighting (lanterns, candles and sunlight only, to make shit seem more realistic or whatever), he never gets tired of seeing little kids walk in with their families as their faces light up in awe as soon as they see the magical interior. Like they’re actually in the midst of their own little adventure, like they’re actually walking into Pixie Hollow and it’s…

Well, it’s cute.

Hanbin doesn’t _do_ cute. But it’s cute. Maybe even a little precious.

But death almost comes at him a little sooner because as soon as he steps towards the kitchen door it literally _flies_ open, scaring the daylights out of him and it takes everything in him to not full on shit himself right there.

 “Jesus _christ_ —”

“Hanbin-ah!” Yunhyeong’s wide awake and chipper, _really_ chipper, _so fucking chipper_ , a strawberry icing streak on the side of his cheek with flour stains all over his hands and he’s got a tray of three full cups of black coffee in his hands, each topped with the cutest little whipped cream swirls with green tea powder sprinkled on top, and Hanbin instantly glares at it because who the _fuck_ orders that—“Hey, can you do me a quick favor? If you’re not busy.”

Hanbin stands there and just stares back at him, the _no_ , _please go away so I can die in peace_ almost leaving his lips but Yunhyeong’s a sweetie pie and he’s got on his cute pink _faith, trust, and pixie dust_ apron and he looks so excited today despite his arms practically falling off from busting his ass in the kitchen making so many pastries this morning, but he’s still smiling. He’s almost always still _smiling_.

"Uh," Hanbin bites his lower lip, mentally stabbing himself in the neck because he already knows he’s gonna give in. “Yeah. Yeah sure, what’s up?”

_God fucking dammit._

_Kill me now._

“Okay, so,” Yunhyeong beckons for him to come closer, and Hanbin has to hold back the whine that’s about to leave his throat. “I was gonna make Chanwoo take care of these, right? But I made him run to the back to get something for me in inventory. And I dunno where Jun is, so,” he holds up the tray, all three piping-hot cups balanced in the center. “Carry these out to table six for me, please? Second floor, not first. And they asked for you anyways.”

It takes Hanbin a hot second to recall what he even says because who the _fuck’s_ even asking for him, he’s served about a hundred people today without any real complaints and he’s lost count of how many cappuccinos he’s made and how many cups of coffee he’s refilled and how many kids have asked him if he’s a real fairy as soon as they caught sight of this stupid ass uniform, to which he’s forcibly had to reply with a heinously overenthusiastic _yeah, but only other fairies can see my wings._ Apparently white button ups, leafy green aprons, a fancy wooden plaque pinned to their chests with their names embroidered into them, and a giant flower crown is enough to make five-year-olds foam at the mouth in wonder.

But it’s company policy, so he’s gotta do it. The “playin’ along with the theme” thing. They’ve _all_ gotta do it. Something about _keeping the youth’s imagination flowing with inherent cooperation_. It’s still fucking stupid and _lame_ and he only wants to die a little more because of it.

But _ah_ , then he remembers _table six, second floor_ , _not first_ and finally _realizes_ and he makes a sour face, groaning out loud.

“Christ, _that_ table again?” he hisses because this is like the eighth fucking time he’s had to go back to that same table and fill all of their cups (who the _fuck_ thought it’d be a good idea to give free refills on coffee here? He wants to _sue_ ), and at this point, he’s pretty sure they want more from him than just their shitty medium roast Columbia imported _whateverthefuck_. His sudden urge to choke and _die_ intensifies. “The hell do they want me to do, drill coffee out of my ass or something?”

He even nearly surprises himself as soon as he says it because he’s _definitely_ turning into a scrooge now and it’s only a little terrifying. Or a lot.

“Maybe,” Yunhyeong snorts. “They either want that, or they want a foursome.”

He motions up to the second floor with his head and Hanbin follows his gaze, baby vomit clawing up his throat when he sees the full table of the same three much, _much_ older women all grinning down at him, giggling and waving and he shivers because he wants to fucking _die_. He doesn’t know _how_ Jinhwan especially deals with getting flirted with on the floor 24/7 whilst still resisting the urge to fling himself off a cliff, but here he is. Doing just that. _Also_ being flirted with. Cliff nowhere within reach.

He’s too _awkward_ for this kinda shit.

“Yeah?” he takes the tray out of Yunhyeong’s hands. “Well, they're not getting either. Remind me to wear a _heterophobia exists and I have it_ sign on my forehead next shift.”

Yeah. Yeah, he sure as hell is reaching _peak_ scrooge today.

“Thank you, I owe you one~” Yunhyeong sing-songs, does a little 180 twirl and just fucking _moonwalks_ straight back into the kitchen. And Hanbin stands there dumbly with the tray in his hands as he watches Yunhyeong disappear behind the wooden doors without even breaking eye contact with him, the older man snapping his fingers like he's about to start a damn 1950s dance battle the entire time he does it.

Damn. Y'know, he _really_ didn't think it was possible for someone to out- _nerd_ him but apparently Yunhyeong's great at a lot of shit aside from making cute pastries and tap dancing to NSYNC throwbacks in flip flops. Now, he can officially debunk all the times Jinhwan called _him_ a dweeb.

He promptly ignores the annoying ass replay of Jinhwan always saying  _it's outta love, Bin!_ in his head.

But again, he doesn’t miss him. He _doesn’t_.

He just. Needs a partner in crime to distract him from wanting to actually die.

But it kinda makes sense, in a way? Because this place is fucking huge and Jinhwan sure as hell _isn’t_ , so the fact that he hasn’t seen him in literal hours on a busy day isn’t even all that weird. Kinda shitty, but not weird.

It's a good ten minutes after serving that nasty ass black coffee order to the table of cougars on the _second floor, not first_ when Hanbin finally hears it. That super sweet, soft-spoken voice coated with the sweetest of sugar and drowning in honey. Sees the familiar head of dark fluffy hair and the way-too-big glittery flower crown on top to match with it, and a green pen with a giant pink rose attached to it for taking orders tucked prettily behind his left ear.

Hanbin swallows.

Jesus _Christ_.

He didn't miss him.

He  _didn't miss him._

Jinhwan's just casually chatting it up with a customer, an older woman, probably in her late sixties or early seventies, and he says something that Hanbin can’t even make out from where he’s standing that makes her laugh. And it’s sheepish, all bright and youthful. Brings out the life in her aged features.

They keep talking for a few seconds until he thanks her for coming, tells her to come back anytime. And she beams, pinches the side of his cheek even as he bids her a polite goodbye. And he watches as Jinhwan attempts to bow to her retreating back, then freaks out like an idiot when his flower crown almost completely falls off his head and he clumsily tries to put it back on but fails so _badly_ , because now his hair’s all fucked up and sticking out in every direction.

Fucking _nerd_.

And Donghyuk might be outright _psycho_ when it comes to making them all do shit against their will, but he did wonders by forcing them to wear flower crowns as part of their uniforms. Again, _entirely_ against their will, Hanbin protesting it especially, but he’ll forgive it just this once.

 _Just_ this once.

Jinhwan starts cleaning the table up diligently from where the old woman left off, rolls up his white sleeves and even from where Hanbin’s standing he can still see the music notes tattoo wrapping around the length of his forearm, and he starts humming softly to himself. Just minds his own business, literally just doing his job. Like a good citizen. Like the good noodle he is.

Which means this is the perfect time for Hanbin to be the complete fucking opposite and creep up behind him like an annoying shit stain because he feels like it and because he _can._

So, he approaches him. Makes sure his steps are super quiet, and waits 'til he's right behind him before he pinches both sides of his waist and says _freeze_.

Jinhwan startles so hard he nearly knocks Hanbin dead in the face with his elbow and twirls around so fast, eyes completely wide and baby fists balled up like he’s about to square up and _kill_ but doesn’t. Reconsiders the whole _going to prison for actual attempted murder_ thing when he sees that it’s just Hanbin.

“ _Christ_ ,” Jinhwan places a hand over his chest. Grabs the silverware cloth from the table and starts beating the shit out of Hanbin with it. “Don’t. Fucking. _Do._  That.”

Hanbin flinches and twists around as he gets whacked with every syllable, eyes wide. “Hold up, you're gonna  _assault_ me like this after you almost took my whole eye out with your elbow?”

He's still getting his literal _ass beat_ by a cloth, so he reaches out. Wraps his arms around Jinhwan's shoulders from behind to trap him and the whacks turn into weak baby punches until they finally just stop.

“No, I just,” Jinhwan runs a hand down his face. “Jesus, I thought you were a _customer_ at first.”

“Nah," Hanbin snorts and tucks his chin into the space between his neck and shoulder. "Just me."

Jinhwan looks down at the arms still wrapped around him with a huff, but he doesn’t make a move to push Hanbin off. Just lets himself be held for a sec. “You know this kinda isn’t helping the fact that customers think we’re legit married, right?”

Hanbin's about to ask him what he's even talking about 'til he actually _looks_ around. Sees about five nearby tables staring hard as fuck at them with wide eyes, only to flinch and go back to what they were doing the second his eyes land on them.

"Oh," he releases his grip. “Well, shit. I mean, we kinda are if we’re keepin’ it real here. Theoretically.”

“Yeah?” Jinhwan turns around and holds up his hand. Wiggles his cute ass fingers and gives Hanbin an expectant look. “Where’s my theoretical 24 karat ring then, Kim? ‘Cause I’m not seein’ it.”

Hanbin snorts and grabs Jinhwan's hand. Interlaces their fingers as he leans onto the edge of the table. “ _First_ of all, your hands’re way too tiny for anything remotely expensive. Second of all, we both know that if I ever proposed to you, it'd be a ring pop over anything else."

“Wow,” Jinhwan blinks at him. “That’s _literally_ the nerdiest fucking thing you’ve ever said. Like, ever. And that’s saying a whole lot.”

“Maybe," Hanbin gives Jinhwan's nose a little boop. "You’d still say yes, though.”

God, it's insane. Their dynamic's fucking _insane_. Because there really isn’t anyone in this entire goddamn world that can joke the way they do and have it genuinely be somewhat normal.

But then again, they’re not normal.

Normal’s fucking _lame_.

“You sure I’d say yes?” Jinhwan cocks a challenging eyebrow, a hand on his hip. “Because if it’s not the strawberry flavored one, I’m sure as hell saying no.”

Hanbin throws his hand over his heart, like he’s been stabbed, like he’s been fucking _shot_ at, even lets out a little gasp for more dramatic effect. “You’d reject my heartfelt proposal for _flavoral hierarchy?_ After everything we’ve _been_ through?”

“Yup, pretty much.”

“Damn. You’re cold-hearted.”

“Very," Jinhwan smiles sweetly and crosses his arms. "What do you want?”

Okay, so Hanbin hates slacking off. Hates anyone who _does_ slack off. Hates slacking off _with_ people who slack off. Hates how fucking ugly and weird the word _slacking_ even rolls off his tongue. So in total, he's a nerd. Who hates slacking. But he’s dying and it smells like cheap succulents and burnt coffee beans and  _ass_ out here and he’s about to flip shit if he doesn’t at least sit for a good ten minutes, so. Might as well suffer in Jinhwan’s company.

“Alright,” Hanbin pulls out the chair from the table and flips it backwards, sits down in it and leans forward on its edge. “I got a ‘lil gift for you.”

Jinhwan quirks a curious eyebrow, but he doesn't pull out a chair. Just sits on the table and hugs his knees and it makes him look so _small_.

“Oh yeah?"

“Yeah it’s like, _super_ important," Hanbin lowers his voice, looks around as if anybody gives an _actual_ fuck about this conversation. "So you can't tell anyone I'm givin' it to you, alright? Like, _super_   _top secret_  level type shit.”

He gets a dry look in response. “You know you sound like a nerd, right?”

“Jinhwan come _on_ ,” Hanbin _whines_ , his voice going back to its normal tone, if not half a pitch higher. “Stop _roasting_ _me_  for like, two goddamn seconds here.”

Jinhwan shrugs, ponders for a quick second. “Nah, it’s kinda my job to roast you. That’s how this friendship works, bub.”

“You’re an _asshole,"_ Hanbin even contemplates throwing a spoon at him, but doesn't. "Look, you’ve been workin' hard today. Super hard. Even though you almost died from that failed attempt at a bow earlier, but—”

“Wait, what? You _saw that_?”

“Oh. Yeah, it was cute as hell,” Hanbin says it casually with a dismissive wave, doesn’t notice Jinhwan’s horrified expression. “Anyways, about the _gift_ —”

“Stop, let me guess," Jinhwan raises a hand. "I get a raise.”

Hanbin has to hold back the urge to laugh, but also cry. He  _wishes_ they got paid more to do this shit. Finding glitter in his ass every night's gotten super fucking old at this point.

“Damn. Y'know what, ya _got_ me," he claps, the sarcasm heavy. Looks around to no one in particular. "Hear that? Folks, I've been found out. Cat's _totally_ outta the bag."

Jinhwan gives him a dead glare. "Hilarious. Really, _peak_ comedy right there."

"Thanks, I try," Hanbin flicks his hair dramatically, does a little bow. "Nah, but seriously. Your _gift,"_ he leans forward and starts drum rolling on Jinhwan's thighs, ignores how irritated it makes the older man, and keeps at it for a few seconds before he leans back in his chair with a loud _tada_."Is me!"

He throws out little nerdy jazz hands when he says it, makes little sparkly noises too, and Jinhwan furrows his eyebrows.

"Um, what?"

"Yeah. You get to spend time with me. 'Cause I'm making you go on break with me. _So_ ," Hanbin claps once. _Loudly_. "I'm technically your gift."

Jinhwan suddenly reaches over and starts touching him. Starts ruffling his hands in Hanbin's too-damn-long hair, like he's looking for something. Starts prodding at his shirt and turning him from side to side and starts reaching in his pockets and Hanbin just sits there awkwardly and lets it happen, still not knowing what the fuck's even happening to begin with.

"Um," he speaks up when Jinhwan finishes harassing him. "What're you doing?"

Jinhwan leans back and gives him a once over, tilting his head to the side. "Seein' if my 'gift' came with a receipt."

Hanbin groans when Jinhwan starts laughing at him softly and face plants onto the table. Cool. So apparently this is _roast_ _Hanbin 'til he passes the fuck out and dies_ day. "Nani."

"Oh c'mon," Jinhwan's _still_ laughing at him because he's a _dick_ , and starts pulling at his ear. "I'm _kiddinggg_."

"Yeah? Well, you suck," Hanbin turns his face and glares up at him, lets his ear get assaulted. "'Cause that wasn't fucking funny."

"Bin. It was pretty funny," Jinhwan pokes him in the cheek and Hanbin's glare softens just a little. Just a _little_. "Seriously though, that's it? Like, you just want me to keep you company or whatever?"

“Yeah, kinda? Also I barely saw you all day, so I kinda deserve this.”

“Yeah?” Jinhwan uncrosses his arms, leans forward onto the front of where Hanbin’s own arms are resting on the front of his chair. “Sounds more like somebody _missed me_.”

Hanbin straightens in his chair and has to fight back the urge to back away, feels his heart buffer in his chest because _what_. “Uh, no?” because he didn’t miss him. He _didn’t_. “No, I just. Need your utmost assistance to accompany me on this extremely important solo expedition to the break room."

"Mmhmm," Jinhwan tilts his head to the side and hums, and Hanbin feels it right in his chest. "Right. So, you missed me."

For the love of _god_.

"Listen," Hanbin slams a hand on the table, tries to make himself look serious. Fails horribly because he gets a strand of hair in his face and blows it outta the way. "Listen, this is _totally_ business fueled. _Entirely_ just business," he says. Ignores how fucking _dumb_ it sounds because he's making it seem like they work in the fucking CIA headquarters and not just a simple cafe with big dumb flower crowns and dumb glitter and dumb  _hanging plants_.

“Righhht, 'course it is. _Just_ business,” Jinhwan leans back, clicks his tongue in amusement. “I dunno if I can, though. It's gettin’ pretty busy out here, _boss_. Donghyuk might need me.”

They barely even have time to react before they hear a loud ass crashing noise a few feet away from them, and their eyes land on the table in the center of the room with a mom and four kids. Only there’s coffee spilled literally all over their table and onto the floor, all of the kids screeching and arguing while the mom’s yelling at all of them to shut up and it’s a goddamn _disaster_.

Hanbin glances over at Jinhwan, an amused eyebrow raised at the older man's horrified face.

“You were saying?”

“Okay,” Jinhwan blinks twice as one of the little girls starts screaming something along the lines of _I fucking hate this family_ , and he looks over at Hanbin. “Okay so on _second thought_ , I’m free. Totally free.”

Hanbin snorts and he gets up from the chair. Stretches his arms above his head like a cat. “Chill, I’ll just make Junhoe clean all that shit up. Oh, and we’re meetin’ at the _super secret special hiding spot of secrecy_ ,” he lowers his voice into a hushed whisper, childishly looking around to see if anyone heard him when again, no one probably even gives a shit.

“So, the break room,” Jinhwan says it plainly at a normal volume, and Hanbin visibly deflates.

“Jesus fucking christ. You’re so _boring_.”

“Yeah well, you’re a nerd,” and Jinhwan picks up the wooden tray on the table, carefully balancing all the tea cups and silverware. “I gotta take these back to the kitchen but I’ll meet you there in a sec, okay?”

He’s about to walk away, when Hanbin swiftly catches him by the sleeve and says a quick _"wait_. _”_

Jinhwan turns around, the beautiful little assortment of roses and daisies rattling in his flower crown as he does it and Hanbin ignores how it makes his breath stutter in his throat.

 _God_.

Donghyuk needs to be fucking _canonized_ for this.

"Yeah?"

“Um. Can you—” _God_ , he feels dumb. He feels so fucking dumb and _tiny_ for asking this but Jinhwan makes the absolute godliest drinks out of everyone here even though he’s not even a certified goddamn _barista_ (do they even need to be certified for this kinda shit? Like is that even a thing?) and he’s cold and sick and he’s _gotta_ ask. “Can you make me some hot chocolate too, please?”

Jinhwan’s face goes so _soft_ for a split second, just a split _second_ , and his eyebrows disappear into his fringe. “Seriously? You want hot chocolate _now?_ ”

It’s when Hanbin squeaks out a weak _shut up, it’s my only fuel_ that makes Jinhwan give him a look. Like he’s trying really fucking hard not to laugh, but he puts on that serious face again. Only it’s not even serious, because it just makes him look squishier.

“You’re a baby, you know that? Like, an _actual_ baby.”

Hanbin raises his hand. “I’m a _man_ , thank you very goddamn much,” he corrects, puffing his chest out a little. “And be nice to me, heathen. I’m still sick.”

As soon as he says _I’m still sick_ it’s like Jinhwan’s attitude does a complete 180, and he goes back to being soft. Heaves out a little defeated sigh and says, “You want marshmallows?”

Hanbin feels a tiny little jolt of excitement and he nods frivolously. He has _every_ right to be excited about these goddamn marshmallows. Okay, so whoever made being an adult a legit thing can _die_.

“Okay fine, just," Jinhwan's voice makes him forget about the marshmallows for a second. "Stop making that face.”

Hanbin blinks at him with soft eyes. “What face?”

" _That_ face," Jinhwan says it weakly. Looks up at him. Like he's expecting him to stop doing 'the face.' Groans when Hanbin doesn't stop because he literally doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about. “The _face_ , Bin. The fucking," he makes a bunch of weird noises, mad as hell because he can't actually reach up and show it with his hands because of the stupid tray that's in them. "God, the  _puppy eyes_.”

Oh.

Oh?

Hanbin blinks at him again, confused as fuck. Doesn't know if he's under obligation to apologize for his literal anatomy or not.

"Um?" Hanbin reaches up and ruffles his hair. Softens his expression and gets even more fucking confused when Jinhwan makes another weak noise like he wants to strangle him when he does it. "These're literally just my eyes, though?"

“Yeah well, stop that."

"Stop _what?"_

"The _eyes_."

"You want me to _not have eyes,_  Nani?"

" _Yes,"_ Jinhwan throws his head back with a groan. "Or. Fuck, I dunno, just. Start wearing blindfolds or some shit.”

Hanbin whistles, holds both of his hands up. “Whoa, we're gettin' _kinky_ now, soldier?"

Jinhwan makes a strangled noise at that when he realizes his hands are still full so he can't actually _hit_ him, much to Hanbin's relief, so he just rolls his eyes and pushes past him. Calls him a _‘dweebshit_ ’ and stomps away angrily. 

He's so focused on watching him cutely stomp away that he's not even aware of his surroundings for a few seconds, 'til he sees a ridiculously tall ass broad figure with raven hair walk past him and it takes him a hot ass moment to realize who it even is. Takes him another hot ass moment to realize that it's fucking _Junhoe_ , and his cat-like reflexes do him justice as he juts his arm out and stops him from going any further.

“Jun!" he pretty much _yells_ it, and Junhoe looks at him like he's already irritated. "My main man! Cool, so I was _just_ about to look for you."

Junhoe rolls his eyes, all sass and fucking cutthroat _savagery_  still, even with his ridiculously large flower crown on. Only his is full of the cutest pink lilies and white daffodils, _extra_ glitter in it too. "Look man, Yunhyeong already made me sign the _no-cooking-anything-ever_ contract for the kitchen, so—"

"What?" Hanbin shoots him a weird look. "No, it's. Jesus, it's not about—wait." he pauses. "Wait, hold on. He made you sign a _contract?_ "

"Yeah. Had a lawyer and everything."

"Holy shit," Hanbin gapes at him incredulously. Doesn't know if he should be terrified of Yunhyeong right now or awed. "Holy _shit_ , he's worse than _me_. I—okay," he shakes his head, does a little _reeling in_ motion with his hands. "Okay, no. _Rewind_. You busy right now?”

Junhoe cocks a dark eyebrow. Looks down at his completely full arms, then looks back up at Hanbin pointedly. Like he’s just been asked if water’s wet or not. “Uh yeah, I kinda am—”

“Great!” Hanbin gives him a hard clap on the back. “Glad you’re not busy. Go clean up table seven for me, will ya?”

He motions to the table with his thumb, and Junhoe follows it. Sees the chaos erupting, and they both watch as the mountain of pastries and teacups go flying everywhere as all the kids start rampaging at the same time and wow. _Wow_.

“Nope,” is all Junhoe says and he turns back around immediately, ready to retreat straight back into the kitchen but Hanbin pulls him by the back of his apron before he’s got a chance to run away.

“Oh come _on,_  why not?"

"Okay, well first of all,  _fuck you,"_ Junhoe bites out, because apparently he's got a tree-sized stick up his ass on this lovely afternoon. "Because I'm not going anywhere near that shit. Have someone else do it." 

Hanbin puts his hands on his hips. Curses the entire fucking universe for deciding to make Junhoe ten times more difficult _today_ of all days. "Look, everyone else is _busy_ , alright?"

Junhoe shoots him a deadpan look. “Uh, okay? And you _aren't_. So then why the fuck don't _you_ do it?"

Shit. Okay, good point. Wow. "Um," Hanbin blinks. "Because you're a great worker and extremely likable?"

He really just wants to say it's because he doesn't wanna fucking do it at _all_ , but he won't, because. Y'know, _responsibility_ or whatever. All that jazz.

"Hm," Junhoe shifts his weight onto one foot, purses his lips. "Okay, compliment taken."

Hanbin clasps his hands together, eyes hopeful because did that just _work?_ “So, you’ll do it?”

“Nah,” and he makes a move to swerve around Hanbin, but Hanbin juts his arm out to stop him, instead throws an arm around Junhoe’s shoulder. Struggles a little because of the height difference and pulls him uncomfortably close.

“Okay, let me _rephrase_ that,” he begins. “You can either clean it up, or you can get bathroom duty for two weeks straight. What’s it gonna be, kid?”

“You’re _barely_ a year older than me, but okay.”

“Damn, you’re right. Make that two months.”

Junhoe’s eyes widen before they narrow dangerously. “You _wouldn’t_.”

“See, that’s _kinda_ the thing. I _would_ ," Hanbin gives his shoulder a little shake. "So? You doin' it or what?"

Junhoe looks up at the ceiling. Contemplates as if he has any other choice even though he doesn't, except death maybe, and he inhales. “You know you owe me for this, right? Like, we're talkin' _eternal debt_ here.”

Hanbin beams. “Yeah yeah, whatevs. Mop’s in the storage closet too, if ya need it,” he gives Junhoe a double tap on the ass. “Good talk, sergeant. Don’t forget to _smile_.”

Junhoe doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even come _close_ to it because he looks like he wants to actually incinerate himself the second his eyes land on that table again, and he throws his head back and groans loudly, literally _drags_ his feet like he’s a walking dead body and trudges towards the back to retrieve said mop.

Hanbin shoots little finger guns at him and calls out a _thanks, you’re the best_ to his retreating frame, which earns him an entirely pissed off _fuck you_ instead.

A _marvelous_ friendship, really. 

 

He almost gets a heart attack and _dies_ when he finally makes it to the break room and sees Jinhwan already there just chilling on the squishy green sofa, already having taken off his flower crown as it sits on the end table next to him, and he's got the cup of hot cocoa in one hand, his phone in the other as he just keeps scrolling. 

“How the _fuck_ —"

“Damn, you’re slow,” Jinhwan comments blandly, looks up from his phone finally. "I did all that and I _still_ got here like, five minutes before you."

Hanbin runs a hand down his face. “The hell did you even do, _teleport_ here?”

Jinhwan snorts. “Nah, I flew here. With my ‘lil fairy wings,” and he makes little flap motions with his hands. 

It's only a little cute.

Or maybe extremely cute.

...right.

Hanbin makes his way on over to sit right next to him, eyes lighting up a little when Jinhwan hands him the steaming cup of hot cocoa. He peers into the cup, softens when he sees it's got a bunch of jumbo heart-shaped marshmallows in it, some whipped cream with a chocolate swirl on top and the cutest little chocolate straw.

The first thing he does is lay his head across Jinhwan’s lap, tries not to spill the cocoa in the process. Lets his own legs drape back onto the sofa’s arm and winces when he feels a dull throbbing crawl up the side of his temple.

“Um,” he hears Jinhwan speak up, and feels the sweet hum of his voice deep in his chest. “It’s cool, just claim my lap without my consent.”

Hanbin rebels by pinching Jinhwan in the thigh with his free hand. Almost laughs at how quick it makes him jolt. “Yeah well, you’re soft, so. Fight me. Not my fault you’re fun to lay on.”

“Okay first of all, I’m not soft. I’m made outta _steel_.”

“Jinhwan. You’re pretty goddamn soft,” Hanbin reaches up and touches his face. Gives his cheek a little pinch, lets his hand linger there for a sec. “ _Damn_. Yeah you’re like, crazy soft. Baby soft. _Peak_ fetus. Pretty sure you’re the actual reincarnation of a marshmallow.”

“ _Steel_.”

“ _Marshmallow_.”

Jinhwan slaps his hand away from where it’s touching his cheek and glares down at him, and Hanbin just sticks his tongue out at him.

Listen, he's an adult. Sometimes.

And Hanbin doesn’t think twice about the consequences. Doesn’t question why Jinhwan swipes the top of his finger on the chocolate swirl on top of the whipped cream in his cup. Which is why he's completely thrown off when Jinhwan decides to be a _shit_ stain and dabs it on the side of his face, getting an entire dollop of chocolate syrup on his cheek.

He glares when he sees Jinhwan start to laugh, all high and airy. “Hilarious."

“I mean, I _am_  hilarious,” Jinhwan licks some chocolate off the side of his thumb and beams down at him. “But that was just payback for callin’ me a marshmallow. Now we’re even.”

“You come into my workplace. You _assault_ me with your artificially flavored _contraband_ —”

He’s about to _riot_ but Jinhwan rolls his eyes and reaches out. Brushes his fingers against the apple of Hanbin's cheekbone and wipes off the chocolate, darts his tongue out and brings his thumb to his lips and just _licks_ it off.

But instead of focusing on Jinhwan's tongue because _yikes, danger danger, abort mission_ , Hanbin glosses his eyes over his face and tries to focus on something else. Like the soft slope of his little button nose, and Hanbin lets his gaze linger on it instead. Thinks about how much Jinhwan's grown into it over the years. Thinks about how damn _cute_ it is.

“You feelin’ any better since last night?” Jinhwan’s honey voice snaps him out of it, and it’s such a fucking flip. How he can easily go from roasting Hanbin raw to treating him like a straight up _baby_ , but he’s not too mad at it. Not right now, he’s too tired to be mad at it. Knows that Jinhwan would probably lose his fucking mind if it was anything remotely serious because he just _cares_ that much, and it’s kinda sweet. Tooth-rottingly, disgustingly, _heinously_ sweet.

And he doesn’t know if Jinhwan’s asking him about the _common cold_ thing or the _swimming in an_ _eternal pit of sadness_ thing, but he opts to just answer the former since it’s easier anyway.

Speaking of that, he still feels like shit. Absolute _terrible_ fucking idea to go for a walk that late in that kinda ruthless weather regardless of how mentally drained he was. But he’s not coughing up his entire goddamn large intestine and left lung anymore, so. That’s a start.

“Kinda? My head still kinda hurts a ‘lil since I didn’t sleep, though. Fuck you for that, by the way,” Hanbin glares up at him. “Tsk. Fallin’ asleep on me in my time of _need_.”

“Bin, it was almost five o’clock. As in, y’know, the morning?” Jinhwan squishes both of Hanbin’s cheeks with his hands until the younger’s lips are squished together like a duck. “In the _a.m_?”

“So?” Hanbin sits all the way up. Pretends like he's _actually_ offended even though he's really not. “The hell’s more important, the validity of my overall health or your beauty sleep?”

“My beauty sleep. Yeah, definitely my beauty sleep.”

“Asshole," Hanbin rolls his eyes. "Also, hugs aren’t mandatory for my slow recovery, but totally welcome, so. Just puttin’ that out there in case you wanna get to it.”

He lazily opens his arms without even looking at Jinhwan, like he’s making a half-assed suggestion. Like he’s saying _I mean, I guess you can come near me if you want_ but also _please hug me, I need it or I’ll die_ and it’s dumb. It’s _so_ dumb.

His literal constant need for affection's gonna end up fucking _killing_ him one day.

Jinhwan gapes at him. “Are you openly _asking_ _me_ for hugs right now? _Right here_ , on this weekday? Ladies and gents, I can’t fucking _believe_ —”

“Um. Wow, so this feels like a legit call-out post.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it is. C’mon, say it," he pinches Hanbin's side. " _Say iiiiit_. _"_

He's about to ask _say what_ , but his words just kinda die. Just kinda _fizz out_ into nothing because Jinhwan shifts on the couch and comes over to him, and he absentmindedly shrinks backwards, not even knowing why the fuck he's so flustered. Because he's just gonna get cuddles, right? Cool. No big deal.

This is fine. Super fine.

It's when Jinhwan lays on _top_ of him, rests his elbows on Hanbin's chest and lays his chin on top of his own arms and gets about a good two inches away from the younger's face that Hanbin realizes that _breathing_  exists. That it's a legit thing he's gotta do to keep himself from fucking _dying_.

Cool. _Cool_.

Cool cool, this is fine. This is totally fine. _Totally_ cool.

But it's not. It's _not_ cool, because this is a _lot_. This is a _whole_ lot.

Because Jinhwan’s all up in his face and he’s so pretty and he smells fucking _amazing_  and it’s maybe making him choke a little. Or a lot. 

So he lays there. Limp and fucking _awkward_ , like the wee hermit that he is, blindly puts the hot chocolate onto the table so he doesn't accidentally spill it on himself and burn his whole goddamn arm off and he doesn't even wanna risk moving because this position's kinda a lot and he doesn't know what the fuck to do with his hands at _all_. Putting them around Jinhwan's waist seems like the first way to get himself punched in the face.

He just wants _hugs_ , dammit, not a _heart attack._

"You gonna say it?"

“I—uh,” Hanbin's brain short circuits, and he's screaming on the inside because _too close too close, fucking **help**_ —"Um, what? Say what?"

Jinhwan just kinda looks at him. "You said you wanted to recover, right? Cool. I'll hug you when you say that you like my hugs."

Hanbin swallows hard. Wonders if it'll hurt all that bad if just he stabs himself in the eye right now with that chocolate straw melting away in his forgotten cup of hot cocoa.

"Jinhwan, this isn't fucking _fair_ ," he complains, but it comes out as a croak because Jinhwan's almost pressed up against his nose and it's making him so goddamn  _dizzy,_ so he stiffens. Silently begs the older man to not move any closer before he fucking _dies_. “Can't I just get like, I dunno, a free trial of hugs or something? You're really gonna make me pay upfront like this?"

He's tough. He's a  _hard ass_ , goddammit. He can _handle_ this.

Only he can't. He can't at _all_ because this is Jinhwan.

And he can be a hard ass around literally anybody _except_ Jinhwan. Whether it's around him, or when it comes to anything involving him. Doesn't know why the fuck that is, but it just is. And he hates it so fucking much.

Jinhwan shifts a little. Moves into a position so he's not on top of him and _not_ about an inch away from his dick thank _god_ , but just kinda lying next to him. But he's still pressed extremely close, his cheek pressed against the crook of Hanbin's neck and Hanbin can already feel how _soft_ it is and it's too fucking much.

So, he closes his eyes. Inhales through his nostrils and prepares himself to let Jinhwan win this round yet again.

"Your hugs are somewhat kinda maybe sorta above decent."

It almost physically fucking _hurts_  him as soon as he says it, but apparently it's not good enough. Because Jinhwan decides that he hates him and leans into his neck, really _really_ fucking close to his ear and just kinda speaks into it, his voice a little soft and low like he's sleepy and it's the absolute _worst_ goddamn thing in the entire world.

"Nope. Try again, Bin."

Hanbin really tries looking into his own mind. Tries to see if that'll maybe just make him disappear for a hot sec and maybe make him calm the fuck down enough to make this life or death confession, but all that's in his mind right now is the vocal equivalent to keyboard smashing, so it doesn't even help. And at this point, he's about to just risk it all and toss his pride under the rug for a quick second because he wants hugs. He really, _really_ wants some goddamn hugs.

He hates Jinhwan for giving such amazing hugs. 

Hates him for holding his hugs fucking  _hostage_ so Hanbin's forced to make this stupid ass confession.

Hates him for always smelling so sweet.

Jinhwan: 1. Hanbin: 0 

_Please kill me now._

Hanbin balls his hands up into fists. Swallows again and braces himself because he can do this. He can _do_ this.

He's a _man_ , dammit.

"Okay, _fine_ ," dear _god,_ he wants to die. "They're nice. Your hugs are nice. Are you happy?"

The grip on him tightens, and he feels Jinhwan huff out a laugh onto his neck and _please_. “Mmhmm. Super happy.”

God, it's the way he fucking _says_ it and his voice is so _sweet_ and yeah never mind, he can't do this. He can't fucking do this.

Jinhwan: 2. Hanbin: -34567830

Jesus. 

But Jinhwan's so warm. He's _so_ warm, it's almost like he radiates a ridiculous amount of heat when he's not even fucking _doing_ anything. Like he's Hanbin's own little furnace. His tiny, peach-scented, potty-mouthed furnace. Who's apparently set on _killing_ him today.

Hanbin throws his arm over his eyes and groans. Hopes the floor splits in half and quite literally swallows him whole. Proceeds to use his other arm and circles it around Jinhwan anyways because he’s chilly and needs  _warmth_. “You’re never gonna let me live this one down, are you?”

Jinhwan does no such thing because he’s a _shit_ and hates him, apparently. “Nope.”

 "You're so fucking _annoying_."

“Ex _cuse_ you, I’m a goddamn _delight_.”

“Nah, that’s a lie. I’d happily trade you in for a pet goldfish,” Hanbin immediately brings his hand up and blocks the upcoming forehead flick attack, and he’s met with Jinhwan’s unimpressed glare. “Alright _fine_ , a pet turtle.”

Jinhwan calls him a 'dickstain _,' how gracious,_  and makes a move to push him off, and Hanbin snorts as he catches him first and wraps his arms around him, locks his legs around him too and leaves him practically immobile in their new position.

“Nooo, wait don’t leave,” and he desperately tries to hold back the laugh that’s about to rip from his throat because Jinhwan’s still grumpily trying to escape and it’s doing jack shit because of his _sixth grader who eternally only eats cheetos and Gatorade-_ level strength and it’s maybe kinda ridiculously cute. “Okay look, turtles are like, a total step up from goldfish. You should be fucking _honored_.”

Jinhwan raises his face from where it’s been squished against Hanbin’s neck, the top of his hair tickling Hanbin’s nose. “ _That’s_ your way of honoring me? By auctioning me off for a _turtle?”_

“Yup. I guess you could say I got you really..." Hanbin pokes Jinhwan in his side, sees this as a perfect opportunity. " _Shellshocked_."

He feels a tickle on his neck after he says it. Feels Jinhwan’s breath hitching a few times and sees his shoulders start to shake up and down and it takes him a hot second to realize what the fuck he’s even doing until he actually _hears_ it. That really sweet, honey-like airy sound and there’s even a little hiccup in there too and he’s so fucking confused for a sec until he looks down and _sees_ it. A faint smile on Jinhwan’s lips and oh.

 _Oh_.

“Holy shit, did you just laugh? Did I just make you _laugh_ with my shitty reptile pun _?”_

“I laughed because you’re a _nerd,"_ Jinhwan pinches him with a huff. "Can’t believe you’d give me up for a _turtle_.”

Hanbin whines at the spot he's just been pinched in, but he doesn't even bother voicing any complaints because he kinda deserved it. “Listen, I can’t say nice shit about you to your face unless one of us is entirely unconscious. Or unless I like, die or something.”

“Right. Okay so I was kinda hoping for a _you’re a bomb ass server_ or a _thanks for watering all the plants in the dining room this morning,_ but that works too.”

“Oh damn, you’re right. Yeah, thanks for not killing all the succulents.”

Jinhwan buries his face in his hands. “You’re _literally_  hopeless.”

Hanbin wholesomely agrees because he's already hyper aware of how fucking _bad_ at this he is. “Look, I’m bad at this shit. You _know_ I’m bad at this shit. Pretty sure we already established in the baby stages of this friendship that I’m bad at this shit.”

“Wow. Yeah, it's a good thing you're this cute."

Hanbin feels his cheeks and the tips of his ears _sizzling_ with heat at the compliment. Another thing he’s fucking terrible at.

“Okay, _never_ call me that again,” he says flatly, ready to square up but also die because Jinhwan just called him the unmentionable _c-word_ and he’s about to fucking _fight_. “That’s going on the list of shit you’re not allowed to say to me. Along with _boss_ and _tits_.”

 _Boss_ because it’s fucking ugly and it makes him feel like a dictator and he’d just rather not.

And tits.

Jesus christ, _tits_.

“What, cute?”

“Stop.”

“ _Cuuute_.”

Hanbin narrows his eyes at him. Feels his eye twitch at the way he purposefully stretches the syllables, because he knows how much Hanbin hates it. Knows how strongly he refuses to associate with that word because no. _No_.

He’s not cute.

Cute can fucking _die_.

“Jinhwan. I will _literally_ stab you with this chocolate straw,” he grabs the chocolate straw from the cup and aims it at Jinhwan, like it’s a damn _jousting_ sword, “and you _will_ need medical assistance.”

Jinhwan shrugs, super unfazed by said chocolate straw. “I said what I said. Beats you always looking like you wanna kill someone.”

  
“Yeah, _myself_ ,” Hanbin snorts, doesn’t give a _single_ fuck how morbid it sounds, and Jinhwan pinches him in the arm for it. “Also off topic, but did you put like, cinnamon in that hot chocolate or something? ‘Cause it tasted fucking _bomb_.”

“Nope. Just nutmeg,” Jinhwan starts distractedly playing with Hanbin’s fingers. “And you said you hated cinnamon.”

Hanbin blinks at him. “I hate cinnamon?”

“Yeah. You said it tasted like someone snorting coke lines in hell, remember?”

Hanbin almost chokes on his spit because yeah that _definitely_ sounds like something he’d say, but also because he’s really stuck on the fact that he can remember everything about Jinhwan, like what his favorite color is or what his nervous tics are or what sets him off and what makes him cry and how he squeaks before he sneezes but he literally can’t even remember what fucking year it is or what he himself ate an hour ago or if a mushroom is even a vegetable or not.

Fuck science, by the way. He’s still gonna keep saying it’s a vegetable.

“Holy shit, I said that?” he blanches. “Damn. No wonder you theoretically married me. ‘Cause I’m funny as hell.”

“Yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

“Listen, your endless sex puns aren’t exactly _star quality_ here either, pal.”

“Better’n your dad jokes, though.”

“Okay but you love my dad jokes, so.”

Complete fucking _silence_.

“Wait, hold on,” Hanbin sits up at that, just _gapes_  down at him in shock like he’s just received the biggest insult in his entire goddamn life. “You _do_ love my dad jokes, right?”

Jinhwan really just sits there and ponders for a second. Purses his lips and Hanbin gets even more offended when he doesn’t say anything. “I mean, I dunno,” he shrugs. “Would it make you feel better if I said yes?”

“Um, kinda?”

“Oh, cool. In that case, no.”

“ _Naniii_.”

“I'm  _joking_.”

“No, you aren't.”

“Yeah you’re right, I'm really not," Jinhwan shifts a little, taps Hanbin on the arm to get his attention. "Also c'mon, we gotta go back out.”

Hanbin sits there and really contemplates it for a second because does he wanna go back out there? Does he wanna proceed to be a responsible manager and do his job in the midst of literal chaos because it's a busy day and everyone more than likely needs his help?

Nah.

“Nah, I'm good,” he lets his head fall on Jinhwan’s shoulder, closes his eyes for a sec. “Don’t wanna. Too tired. Crave death.”

Jinhwan rolls his eyes and makes a move to stand up anyway, only to get yanked down as Hanbin tightens the grip around his waist. “ _Bin_.”

“Don’t wanna,” and he doesn’t. Doesn’t _wanna_. It’s loud as fuck out there and annoying and he doesn’t wanna deal with douchebags in fucking _jorts_ and old horny grandmas and Donghyuk’s hoe stories and—god, he really just doesn’t wanna deal with _any_ of it right now. He doesn’t.  

Because in the break room, it’s quiet. He likes quiet. All that’s in here is the _peace_ and the pretty decorative hanging plants everywhere and the dimmed warm glow from the lanterns and the shitty little fairy lights drooping from the ceiling and the muffled chaos of the cafe hidden behind the sleek redwood door.

And Jinhwan.

Roast him all he fucking wants but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t admit that Jinhwan’s half the reason why he hasn’t squared up and fought everyone on sight today.

Well actually he won’t admit it, because he’s so fucking bad at…the hell’s that thing called again?

Oh yeah. _Feelings._

Yeah, he fucking _sucks_ at that.

It’s when Jinhwan sighs and rakes his little hands through his hair super gently that makes him pretty much fucking melt into this sofa and yeah. Yeah, he’s not getting up. Fuck no.

 “God," Hanbin closes his eyes and has to fight off the urge to start actually purring. "You’re doing _that_ and you still expect me to move? You basically just crippled me here for a good two hours. ‘Cause now I’m super fucking comfy. But also like, don’t stop.”

“C’mon,” he feels Jinhwan pull on his arm, but it does jack shit to actually make him move. “Bin, we’ve been in here for like, ever. Get up.”

 

“Time is a man-made construct,” Hanbin says it out of fucking _nowhere_ , completely serious. “So like, _technically_ it doesn’t even exist. Which means you _could_ stay in here with me forever, y’know.”

“You know you’re kinda the guy in charge here, right? Since when am I the responsible one?”

 “Okay, first of all, I’m not responsible. I’m like, twelve.”

“You’re _twenty-three_.”

“ _Twelve,"_ Hanbin purposefully draws out the syllable. "And anyways, I still don’t wanna get up, so,” and he knows. He knows good and well that he sounds like a _baby_ , but he doesn’t _give_ a shit, he’ll take Jinhwan and these pre-packaged coffee beans over horny old ladies and five-year-old demons any day. “Stay with me. Manager’s orders.”

"Right," Jinhwan starts threading his fingers through his hair again, and Hanbin sighs in content. “You mean _your_ orders.”

He smiles. “Yup. Exactly.”

He’s Jinhwan’s favorite, dammit. _And_ the manager of this actual shit hole. Hell, he'll do whatever he wants. Except he realizes that the universe fucking hates him entirely because as soon as he starts getting comfier, the door swings open and cracks against the wall so fucking _loud_ , and out springs a pissed off Jiwon, an intrigued Donghyuk, an alarmed Yunhyeong, and a bored ass Chanwoo.

“Okay, see that?” Yunhyeong points to them, looks over his shoulder and gives the other three an _I told you so_ look. “See? I _told_ you they weren’t dead.”

“No one said they fuckin’ _died_ , Yun. Christ,” Jiwon rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

Jinhwan shoves Hanbin’s chest to make him get off as he scrambles to sit upright with wide eyes, and Hanbin heaves out a noise in the back of his throat at the loss of warmth.

“ _Gayyyy_ ,” Donghyuk practically _sings_ it, even adds in a little nice vibrato in there too but stops himself short when Chanwoo elbows him straight in his ribs for it.

Yunhyeong looks _extremely_ uncomfortable, the tips of his ears bright red and he just kinda stands there awkwardly. “Uh, we can come back lat—

“The _hell_ we can,” Jiwon nudges him to the side with an eyeroll, steps in front of all three of them and points at Jinhwan and Hanbin with his eyes narrowed. “You two. Stop bein’ fuckin’ _tyrants_ and get your asses out here. Shit’s gettin’ _ugly_.”

Hanbin rolls his eyes, swings his legs over the couch. “Look, if it’s about that same animal rights lady, I told you to tell her I died of a fatal stabbing wound.”

“Holy shit, she’s _back?”_  Chanwoo's eyes are wide, and he looks to the other three next to him for answers. "Animal rights lady’s _back?”_

Jinhwan furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Animal _rights_ lady?”

“Trust me,” Hanbin says it through closed eyelids, rubs at his forehead. “You _don’t_ wanna fucking know.”

Jiwon shakes his head. “Nah it’s not her this time, man. Some beefy dude up front’s flippin' the fuck out or some shit ‘cause Junhoe forgot to put a lemon slice in his water when he asked for one. And he’s fuckin'  _pissed_.”

Wow. Okay, so ixnay on the whole 'no rude customers today despite it being a busy day' thing.

“Over a _lemon?”_ Hanbin groans, looks up at the ceiling as if he's supposed to be surprised at this point anymore. “Is every customer in this place just fucking psycho now or something?”

Donghyuk shrugs. “Iunno, but he’s one of those fitness trainers from that gym down the street," he leans against the wall. "Dudes are like, _super_  fucking serious about their lemon water.” 

Jinhwan sighs softly and puts his flower crown back on, wipes his hands on his pants and stands up to make way for the door. “Okay, I’ll take care of it.”

Hanbin literally _shoots_ up and  _leaps_ in front of him, doesn’t even let him go half a step further as he completely blocks the entire doorway. “Holy shit, are you _insane?”_

“Can you chill? I’ll be nice,” and Jinhwan tries to scooch past him, but Hanbin doesn’t budge. Just cups his hands on Jinhwan’s smaller, narrower shoulders.

“Uh yeah, that’s kinda the issue. You’re nice,” Hanbin says it to him bluntly but calmly, like he’s trying not to literally _insult_ him because is that even an insult? “Like, _way_ too nice. Heinously nice. Inexplicably, uncontrollably nice. _And_ fun-sized. Which probably means you’ll die out there,” he raises a hand. “ _I’ll_ do it.”

Jinhwan shoots him an irritated look. Okay, so apparently it was an insult. Coolio. “What, so you can get your ass beat into next Tuesday for mouthing off a body builder?” he flicks Hanbin’s hands off his shoulders. “Yeah, no. I kinda like your face the way it is now, thanks.”

Hanbin blinks once. Twice. Doesn’t even _hear_ that first part. “You like my face?”

“I—” Jinhwan looks like he’s been _bitch-slapped_ , even staggers backwards a little. “What?”

Hanbin’s really pushin’ it with his own life today, given that Jinhwan’s looking up at him like he wants to strangle him where he stands, but he’s also feeling extra ballsy and apparently Jinhwan just loses all credibility with this cute ass flower crown on.

“You kinda just said you liked my face,” he says simply, completely _marvels_ in how Jinhwan looks like he wants to fling himself into a volcano. “Like, just now. I believe your exact words were—”

Jinhwan literally _shoves_ him out of the way with an eye roll before he’s even got a chance to finish, his hair bouncing comically with each step as he makes way to escape and has to physically fight back the urge to deck Hanbin in the face.

 _“You like my faceee~”_ he sing-songs at him as Jinhwan stomps away, then shrieks when the green rose pen comes flying in his direction and almost hits him in the face.

“Wow. What a wonderful marriage you two have," Yunhyeong dramatically bats his eyelashes at him, heaves out a sarcastic sigh. "Really, I’m _so_ jealous.”

" _Don't_ , Yun," Hanbin rolls his eyes. Fixes his collar a little to recover from almost losing an eye to that pen. "Also random, but are we still on for this weekend or whatever? I gotta know so I can go out and buy shit if anyone needs it."

“ _Yup_. Me and Dong’s place this time," Jiwon pipes up, starts snapping his fingers rhythmically. "And we're gonna get _fuckeddd uppp_.”

Donghyuk and Jiwon both high five each other and start whooping like wild animals, and they both start simultaneously singing _we're gettin' fucked uppp_ in unison until Yunhyeong clocks his eyes on them, going completely serious for a hot second.

" _No_. No, there will be _nothing of the sort,"_ he points at them aggressively, "because this is _family night_. So if you don't wanna _starve_ , I suggest you keep that _'stash'_ locked away _entirely_."

"Christ _,"_ Jiwon holds his hands up defensively, eyes widening like he's just been held at gun point. "A'right man,  _Jesus._ We won't _disturb the general public_ this time, just. Don't bring out the big guns on us. Fuck."

Chanwoo’s the only one who looks like he has no idea what the fuck they’re talking about though. “Wait, what?”

Jiwon looks over at him. “Oh. Wow, I forgot this fucker just graduated a few months ago so he’s actually got some more free time for us now," he comes over and claps Chanwoo on the back. "Nah, but it’s like, nothing crazy? We’re all gonna pig out and play video games or some shit. Maybe watch a movie. New family tradition or whatevs.”

Yunhyeong throws his arms in the air. “And I’m gonna cook! This week's theme is Italian.”

Hanbin damn near breaks his entire neck from turning around so fast. “Did you say _Italian?_ Hold on, this means you’re making your lasagna, right?”

 “Yup. I’m also buyin’ ice cream since I’m too tired to make it from scratch today. Keep in mind that _all_ _illegal activity_ during family time is _entirely prohibited_ ,” Yunhyeong draws out the syllables and he gives Jiwon a _hard_ stare. “Yeah, I’m calling you out.”

Jiwon rolls his eyes and _groans_. “You’re so fuckin’ _lame_ , man. We didn’t even get _arrested_ last time.”

“Right. _Last time_. Anyways,” Yunhyeong throws an arm around Chanwoo’s shoulder, gives him a little reassuring shake. “I know how much you love Overwatch, but that’s banned from family night for like, all of eternity now. You can bring anything else you want, though!”

Chanwoo eyes the hand on his shoulder for a good few seconds, then gives Yunhyeong a skeptical look. “Um, what? Why’s it _banned_?”

“Because Bin fuckin’ _sucks_ at it and went full on Hulk mode or some shit last time we played it and threw the controller at the TV,” Jiwon interjects, the sheer _trauma_ still in his voice. “So now there’s a big ass crack in the screen. _And_ we’re down one controller.”

“Okay listen, that was _justified_ ,” Hanbin whines pitifully from the sidelines. “You were _cheating_.”

“You can’t fuckin’ _cheat_ at Overwatch, dude. It’s _Overwatch_ ,” Jiwon rolls his eyes at him and cups his hands on Chanwoo’s shoulders. “Look man, just bring yourself, alright?” he gives the youngest’s hair a little ruffle. “And some blankets, ‘cause we’re gonna build a fort.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways i'll prolly post that next chap tonight or tomorrow bc oof words are hard  
> love u all <3


	3. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> family night shenanigans or whatevs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUP LOVES so this is still a double update (but also not really ?? oof) so if y'all didn't read that last chap go read it ;;

The weekend rolls around and it's then that Hanbin's gotta sit back and come to the conclusion that weekends are always fucking _weird_. 

 _Super_  fucking weird.

Because there's what, seven days in a week? Twenty-four hours in each? Which leaves out way too many in-between intervals from when they're _not_ working that allows them to go out and do really stupid shit and end up in really stupid shitty situations via the stupid-shit-doing. Like ending up at the police station for stealing a fucking traffic light on a busy highway at 2am with a bottle of  _everclear_  stashed in your ass pocket.

Ahem,  _Jiwon_.

But family night's okay. More than okay. Decent. Maybe even kinda great. 

And they’ve all got their own lives and their own shit going on on the regular, but they still gotta sacrifice one day of the week to all link up and chill for a few hours of the late night. Like a family. Just like their days in college, only fewer noise complaints and fewer pissed off residents.

Actually nah, that’s a reach. Their entire floor still fucking hates them.

But  _anyways_.

It’s kinda a simple thing, to be honest? Just a day where Yunhyeong cooks for all of them while they talk shit about dumb shit and do dumb shit while  _being_  dumb shits because they’re dumb. Alcohol’s involved on occasion, but sparingly given that literally none of them can handle their liquor all that well.

(“ _But you guysss, alcohol ruins the sincerity of the sacred times we share together as a healthy, happy family!”_ )

( _“Yunhyeong, please.”)_

Hanbin looks over at the clock, inwardly groans when he sees it strike 7:47 pm. He’s been here for a good hour and a half and he’s still on this big ass bed, wonders why the  _hell_  Jinhwan’s even still got this bed in the first place when it’s literally three times bigger than him, but he doesn’t complain because it’s so  _comfy_. And he’s been in it so many times, slept in it so many times. Maybe not for more than a good two to three hours at a time obviously, but  _still_.

He presses his face into the red satin pillow, and it smells like him. Like Jinhwan. Why does he always smell like fucking  _peaches_?

And it’s warm somehow? Like Jinhwan’s room and everything in it is just  _him_  because it pretty much radiates warmth and sweet smells and home and it’s so fucking  _weird_  but not unappreciated, either. No, not by a longshot.

“Jinhwan, hurry the fuck  _up_ ,” he moans, staring at a dark red stain on the ceiling, and he’s not sure if it’s blood or wine. Knowing Jinhwan, he’s like 99% sure it’s probably the latter. He almost doesn’t even wanna bother asking how it got all the way up there in the first place, though. “Before I like, die of famine or something. ‘Cause then I’ll just come back to haunt you for committing unintentional domestic homicide.”

“You know you rushing me isn’t gonna make me go any faster, right?” Jinhwan opens the door the tiniest bit and steam practically  _piles_  out from it in waves. “Like, at all.  _Also_ ,” he creaks the door open until only his head’s sticking out of it, his hair damp as it drapes over his eyes prettily. “I drooled on that pillow like, ten times this week, so. Might wanna not cuddle with it like that.”

He disappears behind the door as soon as he says it and Hanbin’s eyes widen before he throws the offensive weapon out of his hands as far away from him as possible, whining into the sheets when Jinhwan starts  _cackling_.

“You’re a  _dick_ ,” his voice comes out weird and muffled, and he glares at the closed door in front of him, his hair sticking out wildly when he raises his head from the covers. “Like, an  _actual_  dick. The  _pinnacle_  of dicks. Why’re we still friends, again?”

“Because without me, you’d freeze to death,” is the dry response he gets and Hanbin blinks once, then  _twice_  because he really doesn’t have a rebuttal for it.  _Damn. Okay, that’s fair._

But this is still fucking stupid. And he’s too lazy to actually sit up right because that’d probably require actual effort, so he opts to just roll over instead, steadying his feet on the floor so he doesn’t literally fall off the bed and break his goddamn neck, and he makes his way over to the bathroom door.

“The fuck’s  _taking_  you so long?” he clutches onto the door knob and twists it a little but stops himself short. “Oh—wait, you’re not still like, naked or something are you?”

Jinhwan creaks the door all the way open at that and—okay cool. Cool, so  _no_ , he’s not naked, but he’s still in his robe, the maroon velvet draping loosely over his body. The small cross tattoo on his collarbone peeking through, the light grey shadows under his already puffy under eyes a little more pronounced from his face still being raw and supple from the shower, and Hanbin really doesn’t know how the fuck he does it. Doesn’t know how Jinhwan manages to make himself look like a fucking assassin and a  _floof_ all at once, but here he is. Quite literally assassinating every single fiber of his being with a knife while also looking painfully huggable.

But this is fine. He’s fine.

Completely fine.

Hanbin almost has to take a step back because this is close, this is  _way_  too fucking close, but he forgets to because it’s definitely been an entire thirty to forty-five minutes since he heard the shower stop running and Jinhwan’s still in his robe and family time officially starts at eight and Jinhwan’s still in his goddamn  _robe_.

“You didn’t even get  _dressed_  yet?” Hanbin almost  _shrieks_ , eyes wide. “The hell were you doing in here for the past half hour?”

Jinhwan just shoots him a bored look, his mouth frothy with toothpaste, and there’s a radiant glow to his skin, all dewy and flushed. “I wath thaking my _thime,”_ he says, cheeks puffy and Hanbin backs up a little to avoid getting accidentally  _spat_  on.

“Jinhwan. We're goin' to  _family night,"_  Hanbin gives him a long once-over and holds back the urge to even guess what brand the robe's even from so he doesn't have a damn _stroke_. "Not a fucking  _crowning ceremony_.”

Jinhwan rolls his eyes and reaches down to turn on the tap as he spits some tooth paste into the sink. And his robe slips a little right where his shoulder is all the way down to his chest when he does it, and Hanbin’s eyes dart towards it for not even half a second before they’re averted once again. “Wow, you always this impatient? Who’s the one who always nags, now?”

“Nah, that’s still you,” Hanbin snorts as he side-steps into the bathroom fully, and the air’s still a little muggy from the shower. His eyes rake over the counter packed with all of Jinhwan’s skincare, over all ten bottles, fifteen, one hundred, he doesn’t even fucking _know_ how much shit’s in here _,_ but he’s already overwhelmed just looking at it. “Jesus, do you even  _need_  all this shit? Your skin’s already the equivalent to like, a baby.”

Jinhwan cocks an eyebrow at that and stops brushing to look up at him in the mirror. “I’m gonna do us both a favor and pretend like that was a compliment.”

“It was!” he defends and it’s too loud, it’s  _way_  too fucking loud and Jinhwan’s eyes narrow at him. “Babies are like, super cool or whatever. Really soft and shit. And cute. Kinda?” and Hanbin pauses for a second because are babies even cute? Fuck no, but anything to do damage control when Jinhwan’s got his hair in his eyes and looks like fucking  _Ju-On_ and the last thing he needs is a sleepy moody Jinhwan mad at him this late. There’s a whole lotta sharp objects in this bathroom. “Okay not really, but like. Christ, Nani, I wasn’t—”

“Bin, stop talking. You’re forgiven,” Jinhwan leans into the sink and spits as he rinses his mouth with water. “Just hang on, I’ll be done in a sec.”

Hanbin wants to scream because he knows that’s a reach, knows that “ _a sec”_ means another goddamn decade from now in  _Jinhwan logic_ , and it almost makes him wanna die because he hasn’t eaten since his lunch break earlier and he’s  _starving_  and why did Jinhwan choose right now,  _in this very moment_ , to be high maintenance? Especially when his skin’s already flawless and beautiful and fucking  _soft_  and he always smells so sweet and  _peachy_. For someone who drinks like it’s a goddamn extreme sport, he’s almost unfairly pretty. Lovely, even.

But boosting Jinhwan’s already big ego when he’s in this expensive ass velvety robe, flushed and dewy and _sinful_ , is not gonna help anyone in this lifetime. Ever.

So Hanbin groans, lets his back hit the doorframe behind him and tilts his head to the side to shoot Jinhwan a look. “The hell am I supposed to do ‘til then?  _Watch_  you?”

“Uh, yeah?” Jinhwan says it like it’s the most obvious fucking thing ever, like he’s offended by the pure peasantry behind the question, and he starts tapping his face gently with some weirdly sticky, thick liquid and his face glazes over so prettily, like varnish on a renewed masterpiece, the second he puts it on. Hanbin has to hold back the urge to say it looks like he’s smearing straight up  _dick juices_ all over his face. “If that’ll make you stop bitching, go for it.”

“It won’t. In fact, my bitching’s not even  _close_  to its peak," Hanbin raises a finger. " _Peak_  bitching’s gonna be me physically convulsing to death when you slap on twenty more eye creams and make me miss out on that lasagna.”

Jinhwan scoffs. Opens one out of said twenty eye creams, and starts dabbing it gently under his eyes. “So am I about to get cheated on over some lasagna, or what? Because you literally haven’t stopped mentioning it since we closed shift.”

“Jinhwan. This is  _lasagna_  we’re talking about,” Hanbin deadpans,  _completely_  serious about this goddamn lasagna. “It’s like, the fucking Channing Tatum of all ribbon pastas.  _And_  it’s Yun’s breadcrumb recipe. This is some serious shit, alright?”

“Wow. I’m trembling," Jinhwan says it sarcastically as he grabs a clip and pins his hair back, showcasing his forehead. Puts the delicate, heart-shaped frame of his face on full display that's always hidden by how long his hair's gotten. "And since when is Channing Tatum your type?”

“He’s not. Still pretty hot, though,” Hanbin leans his cheek into his palm, his elbow steadied on the counter as he watches Jinhwan just dew his face up with another product from some weird foggy glass bottle with a label that looks like it’s in French or some shit, like an oblivious six-year-old watching their mom slap on layers of luxury makeup. “Damn. What’s it like havin’ pretty people privilege, huh?”

Jinhwan snorts lightly, and there’s a noticeably rosier tint in his cheeks. Hanbin just assumes it’s from the heat of the shower still. “Feels great, thanks. Gets me a whole lotta free shit.”

“From where, sugar daddies?”

Jinhwan turns around so fast and the look on his face is so fucking  _thrown off_  that it makes Hanbin blush furiously.

“Sugar  _what now?”_

“I—no, I just,” Hanbin just buries his face in his hands as the embarrassment just flows in, the heat rising up to his ears. “Okay. Okay never mind, pretend like I never said that.” 

Jinhwan raises an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Donghyuk?”

Hanbin makes a noise into his palms that oddly mirrors the sound of him slamming his face onto a keyboard and attempting to make a  _somewhat_  coherent sentence.

“Yup, I figured," Jinhwan just nods. "Also, nope. No sugar daddies. If I ever get  _that_  broke, you’re the one who's buying me shit first.”

Hanbin scoffs, nudges him in the side with his hip. “You’re saying that like you don’t already make me always buy you food against my will.”

“Damn straight,” and Jinhwan finger flicks him right in the space between his eyebrows, smiling sweetly in return when Hanbin glares at him for the assault. “Also get out for a sec, I gotta change.”

Hanbin snorts, rubs at the abused spot on his forehead. “Seriously? Are we ten?”

And he doesn’t know why the fuck he even says it. Doesn’t even know what he expects to happen because this isn’t weird.They've been friends for like what, a whole ass decade now? Maybe even a little longer? This is just Jinhwan. _Nani_. Who’s probably seen his dick _way_ more than he’s ever asked to before, so this is fine. 

Because they're...bros.

Bros? Yeah, that’s it. Bros.

 _Just_ bros.

So, this is fine.

Only it isn’t. It isn’t fine at  _all_  because as soon as he says it, Jinhwan gives him a long, dry look. Says an unbothered  _if you say so_ , and starts peeling off his robe where his collar bone is and the first thing Hanbin does when he sees it start to slide off his shoulders and down his chest is seer into eternal panic because christ on a fucking  _cross_ —

“Shit, _wait_ —” his eyes widen and he turns around so fucking _fast_ , almost trips over his feet, face  _boiling_  hot, “Jesus  _Christ_ ,” and he nearly rams his face into the wall.

Jinhwan stops and blinks at him. Clutches where the robe’s fallen where his shoulder is but doesn’t make any moves whatsoever to actually pull it back up.  

“You’re gonna pass out over a  _shoulder?”_ he says and is he  _laughing?_  Hanbin’s about to have a goddamn stroke and he’s  _laughing?_  “Who’s ten now, huh?”

Hanbin can actually  _feel_  his palms going clammy, but this is fine, he’s fine. Totally fine.

_Just bros._

“No, it’s. It's fine,” he swallows, presses himself against the wall. Almost chokes on how dry his throat’s become all of a sudden and why’s he being so fucking  _weird?_  This is just  _Jinhwan_ —“It's cool," _it's really not fucking cool_ , "yup. Yup, totally cool. Coolio. It’s cool, I wasn’t even—"

“Jesus,” Jinhwan rolls his eyes and pushes past him, opens the bathroom door and crosses his arms. Cocks an eyebrow because Hanbin's still practically glued to the corner like it's his new safe haven. “Bin, turn around."

Hanbin doesn't turn around. Doesn't move. Doesn't move a single fucking _inch_ because he's frozen and he's _dying_ and his neck feels like it's on fucking _fire_ , but he's fine. He's _fine_. "Um, I can't."

_"Why?"_

He wants to scream _put the fucking shoulder away and we'll talk,_ but he doesn't. Because he can't. He really, really just fucking  _can't_.

He hears Jinhwan let out a pretty sigh about a foot away from him. "Open your _eyes_ , Hanbin."

"But you—," god, he's being a fucking _child_. "But you said you were changi—"

"I'm _not,"_ he can practically _hear_ the eye roll. "Because apparently you can't handle shoulders. Just open your fucking eyes."

Hanbin swallows but cracks one eye open anyway, then both, and finally garners the ability to stop being fucking _awkward_ and actually looks at him.

 _Barely_.

And cool. Cool, so Jinhwan looks irritated as hell— _valid_ —but the shoulder's out of reach and the strings on his robe are all tightened again and he can't see the peak of his chest anymore and Hanbin's about to fucking _rejoice_ , but he doesn't. Can't. Because Jinhwan makes a motion that mirrors him saying _get the fuck out_ and it takes all of Hanbin's last two braincells to register what he even means.

"Oh," Hanbin blinks at the open doorway to the bedroom like it’s some kinda portal to fucking  _Narnia_. “Wait, are you kicking me outta your bathroom?”

“No, Bin," the sarcasm is so _heavy_. "The door’s wide open so I can trap you in here and give you a strip tease.”

“Okay but like, wouldn’t that be kinda anticlimactic, though? ‘Cause I mean," Hanbin just kinda scratches his head. "Like, you’re technically only wearing a  _robe_ , so it wouldn’t really be all that—”

“Hanbin. Get out.”

“Right. Leaving. _Retreating_ ,” Hanbin claps and shoots him a quick dorky  _okay_  sign, bumps into the door frame and almost trips on his way out, but he catches himself. “Cool, got it.”

Jinhwan rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time and as soon as the door actually shuts, Hanbin presses his back up against it for dear life. Doesn’t know  _why_  the fuck his heart feels like it’s having a goddamn  _salsa class_  in his chest, but he ignores it. Wipes away at the random bead of sweat that’s just formed out of nowhere on his temple. Pretends to not hear the faint, muffled sound of fabric hitting the floor behind him.

 _Christ_.

Hanbin makes the walk of shame back to the bed, the heat in his cheeks barely sizzling out as he hears Jinhwan turn on his loud ass hair dryer. He flops back into the sheets, lets himself dangle upside down off the bed’s edge, and as soon as he gets comfy, his phone starts ringing. He almost wants to scream when he has to inch himself to actually reach for it, and he squints when he reads the contact flash up on his screen.

 _**Dumbass bitch**_ _is calling._

“Chief commander speaking,” he says dryly into the receiver, still crying after that painful journey of moving literally two feet. 

“Yo,” Jiwon’s voice comes floating through the other end of the line. “You home now? Everyone else is pretty much here already.”

He’s about to say  _yeah, yeah I’m home_  ‘til he realizes that no, no he’s not home. That this isn’t even his place. That this is definitely Jinhwan’s apartment and that he definitely doesn’t fucking live here, and that he just spends so much time here that his brain’s officially convinced itself that he and Jinhwan actually live together when they most certainly do not.

Wow. Yeah, they spend  _way_  too much time together.

“Nah,” Hanbin lets his free arm dangle loosely to the floor. “I’m at Jinhwan’s place.”

The judgement practically pools in as soon as Jiwon snorts into the phone. “Fuckin’  _christ_ , man. You might as well just  _move in_  with him at this point.”

“Shut up, I was just—wait, hold on,” Hanbin sits up from the bed, eyes narrowing suspiciously because even with Jinhwan humming some random Usher song a little too loudly in the bathroom, he’s definitely sure he can hear Jiwon outright fucking  _smacking_  on the other end of the line. “Are you fucking  _eating_ already _?”_

The chewing slows immediately.

“…maybe.”

Hanbin runs a hand down his face. “Jiwon, you can’t just fucking  _break the family code_. No _eating the family dinner_ ‘til the  _entire_  family’s all there. We’ve  _talked_  about this.”

“The fuck kinda agreement was that?" Jiwon snorts into the receiver. "‘Cause I’m like, pretty fuckin’ sure that wasn’t even in the treaty.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it wasn’t. Now it is,” Hanbin lets his legs dangle off the side of the bed. “I made a mini section in it for all the dumb shit I make up on the spot.”

A moment of silence as Jiwon collects the actual stupidity behind that logic. “Wow. Cool. You should make another mini section in it for every conversation with you that’s made me wanna chuck myself off a fuckin’ cliff.”

"Hey, I'm fucking  _awesome_ , alright?" Hanbin points into the speaker, as if it's gonna make a goddamn difference given that Jiwon can't even see him. "See this conversation we're havin' right now? Fuckin'  _awesome_. 'Cause of  _me_."

 _Nerd,_ he hears Jinhwan say loudly from behind the door, and Hanbin sticks his tongue out at him. Knows Jinhwan can’t see him doing it but does it anyways.

"Yeah so like, if that was Jinhwan in the background, tell him I said I agree  _entirely_ ," Jiwon says dryly from the other end of the line, and Hanbin blushes furiously.

“Shut up," he sasses back into the phone. "Look, just don’t eat all the food, alright? I’m serious. ‘Specially not the lasagna, ‘cause I’ll fucking riot,” he kicks his feet up in the air and just lets them stay like that, wiggles his toes in his socks. “And we’ll be over soon as Jinhwan stops being a high maintenance bitch and hurries up.”

A wet towel shoots out from the bathroom and smacks him square in the face as soon as he says it, and Hanbin almost flies off the bed but he catches himself.

Jinhwan pops his head out from the bathroom and smiles at him, makes an innocent little kissy face at him even, then proceeds to keep doing whatever the fuck he was doing two seconds ago. Probably slapping on his eighty-sixth layer of some two-hundred-dollar moisturizer or some shit.

Hanbin gapes after him, a little light-headed.

“Whatever, man,” Jiwon’s voice snaps him out of it, and he almost forgets that he’s even on the phone in the first place. “And bring blankets, ‘cause Donghyuk’s a fuckin’ dumbass and fucked up the first fort we had, so,” more loud, gross ass chewing, and Hanbin’s eye almost twitches. Almost. “New fort looks kinda sad right now.”

Hanbin hears a faint  _fuck you_  in the background from none other than Donghyuk himself, and he snorts. “Yeah yeah, whatever. I’m serious about that lasagna, though. Hands  _off_.”

He hears Jiwon heave out one long, deep dramatic groan on the end of the line. “ _Okay_ , I won’t eat all of it. Mostly,” he adds in quickly before Hanbin even has a  _chance_  to yell at him for it. “Just hurry the fuck up, a'right?”

Jiwon hangs up just like that, leaving Hanbin to glare at the screen because  _rude_.

He looks up when he hears a door click and sees that Jinhwan’s already emerged from the bathroom with actual clothes on this time, doing goddamn  _wonders_  for his sanity, and Jinhwan's just wearing a plain black kind-of-but-not-really fitted tee and some black sweats, his hair still only just a little damp, his eyes nearly covered and his cheeks are only a little rosy and he looks—

Well, pretty. Really, _really_ pretty.

 _God_.

But fuck _pretty_ because all Hanbin’s thinking about is Jiwon possibly slurping down that lasagna.  _His_   _lasagna_ , and it only makes things worse because Jinhwan did all that extra shit only to come out in the most plain lazy outfit known to man.

“Are you shitting me? You almost made me wait a whole  _two hours_  just so you could throw on a t-shirt and some  _sweats_?”

“Why? You got somewhere else to be?” Jinhwan bends over and starts putting on his socks and Hanbin tries not to dwell on how they’ve got cute little Toy Story prints on them. “And don’t lie, because we both know you literally never go out.”

Hanbin rolls his eyes and turns himself right-side up on the bed, leaning back on his elbows to shoot Jinhwan a glare and it’s a little weird seeing him like this. When Jinhwan’s not quite literally drowning in fabric that’s way too big for him, in pants that don’t pool at his feet or sleeves that don’t flop all the way past his knees. And even in this lazy ass lounge wear, he still looks expensive. Still looks entirely untouchable. Still looks lovely.

“Okay,  _this_  is why I like you more when you wear my clothes,” Hanbin comments when Jinhwan leans against the wall to steady himself. Contemplates throwing a sock at him. “Because your assholiness increases by like, eighty-five percent whenever you don’t wear ‘em.”

Hanbin makes a mental note to add 'assholiness' to the said list of stupid shit he makes up on the spot.

Jinhwan cocks an eyebrow. “Are you saying you like it when I wear your clothes?”

Hanbin blanches. Chokes a little, even. And Jinhwan’s just chilling as he slips on the other sock, just shoots him a casual glance as he says “ _well?”_

And words? Words, what the fuck even  _are_  those because Jinhwan literally always does this shit. Says shit that’s so out of pocket that it makes Hanbin’s throat do that… that weird ass  _thingy_  where it closes up and he forgets that breathing is a thing. And he hates it.

And Hanbin’s a smart dude. A smart lad. A smart dude lad. Whatever the fuck. Knows his wardrobe’s just gonna get cleaned the fuck out to literal dust if he ever even  _thinks_  about telling Jinhwan that he thinks it’s super cute when he wears his clothes.

Nah, he’ll keep that to himself ‘til he  _dies_ , thank you very much.

“I’m—” fucking _words—_ “Okay, that’s literally not what I said, but—”

“It kinda was,” Jinhwan grabs the bundle of blankets from his bed and throws it over his head and wraps it around himself, only his face and a little bit of his hair sticking out from the front and he looks so squishy and  _small_. “You ready to go or what?”

_I’ve been ready for two fucking hours, you tiny inconveniently timed fuck stain._

Jinhwan comes over to him and smoothly slides his hand into Hanbin’s palm, intertwining their fingers casually and starts bitching the second they finally enter the hallway. “It was like, seventy-two degrees in my apartment and your hands’re  _still_  freezing?” he nags. “I swear to god you’re like, a walking corpse.”

He cradles Hanbin’s hand between his palms, brings it up to his cheek and then briefly over his lips for just a second before he starts breathing hot air on it, then rubs them together to bring heat back into them, his tongue out in concentration.

So fucking  _soft_.

Hanbin’s going to die.

This is fine.

“Yeah, ‘cause I  _am_ ,” he mutters and it’s so quick how he resigns, how he just fucking  _gives up_  and literally just doesn’t have a snarky response to that because Jinhwan’s holding his hand and it’s so soft. It’s  _so_  soft. Why’s he so  _soft?_  “Figuratively and literally in every sense ever.”

“Hm. Didn’t know dead people liked cuddles and holding hands, but okay. Seems legit.”

Hanbin visibly stiffens and he chokes. Fucking  _hates_  himself for how true that is. Resists the urge to ram himself into the nearest brick wall.

“What _ever_. Just,” he grumpily shoves his free hand in his hoodie pocket. “Shut the fuck up. Before I change my mind.”

Jinhwan just tightens the grip on their hands gently and gives him the sweetest smile, his puffy eyes turning up at the corners like sweet crescent-moons and it doesn’t help that he looks like he’s being  _swallowed_  by this massive cluster fuck of blankets he’s wrapped himself in.

Twenty-six. He’s really  _twenty-six_.

Sheesh.

Hanbin contemplates punching himself in the face and quite literally knocking himself out cold to maybe give himself some more edge because he can physically feel himself going  _soft_  but he doesn’t, saves himself the physical agony. Just pulls the drawstrings on his hoodie as far as they’ll go with a whine and it nearly covers the entirety of his face, save for his eyes, nose and lips ( _heh_ ), and he grumpily tugs Jinhwan’s hand forward, promptly ignoring Jinhwan’s light laughter from behind him.

“Yeah, well,” Jinhwan lets himself get pulled down the hallway, the blankets trailing behind him like a cape, and Hanbin only casts him a glance from the corner of his eye because his face is still burning like satan’s fucking  _den_  and he’s not ready to look him in the eye yet. “Next time we’ve got free time, I’m takin’ you to a doctor. You literally sleep like, two hours a week. And you  _need_ ,” Hanbin gets poked in the tummy, and it makes him squirm. “To  _eat_  more.”

“Yes,  _dear_ ,” he coos sarcastically, because Jinhwan’s doing the thing. The  _spouse_  thing. “And no doctors. If I’m secretly like, dying of cancer or some shit, I’d rather just not know about it.”

No. No  _fuck_  that, Hanbin doesn’t  _do_  doctors. Hell, he’d even go out on a whim and say  _he doesn’t need a doctor, he’s perfectly healthy_. But that’d be a goddamn lie because his immune system went ham and really just told him to go fuck himself these past few months and he’s barely gotten over this cold he’s had for the past few days, so will he just depend on his incredible mental health to get by instead?

 _Also_ no, because his mental health’s in complete fucking  _shambles_  too, but his lame self-deprecating jokes and the too-long but also not-long-enough cuddle sessions,  _thanks Jinhwan_ , are enough to keep him just barely afloat, so he’d rather just fucking  _not_. He’s fine.

Jinhwan knows him, though. A little  _too_  well. Knows it’s complete bullshit, too. “Don’t be annoying. And you’re gonna end up going anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” Hanbin cocks an eyebrow and rounds on him because  _he’ll do no such fucking thing_. “Why, because you  _told_  me to?”

“Uh,  _yes?_  Also because you love me?”

“Damn, did I ever say that? ‘Cause I don’t remember ever saying that. Like, I’m almost entirely positive that I literally never said that," Hanbin reaches over and pinches Jinhwan in the nose. Smiles on the inside when Jinhwan wrinkles his face as he does it. "I  _do_  recall you saying that I’m your favorite, though.”

“Wait, hold on," Jinhwan stops swinging their hands. Looks up at him like he's officially fucking  _lost_  it. "Hold on, literally  _when_  did I ever say you were my favorite?”

Hanbin stops walking and just stares at him. Gives him an  _are you shitting me_  look. “Um, you kinda didn’t have to?” he says it pointedly. “It’s like,  _painfully_  obvious.”

"Hm," Jinhwan looks up to the ceiling in mock thought. “Nah, that definitely sounds fake. Pretty sure you’re my least favorite.”

It sounds like complete bullshit and it almost makes him wanna straight up just burst into laughter, but he holds it in. Saves Jinhwan the embarrassment.

“Wow. Yeah, you’re a shit liar there, bud,” he reaches out and lifts Jinhwan by the chin to make him look up at him. Tries  _really_  fucking hard not to think about how the entirety of Jinhwan’s face could probably fit in just this one hand. “Nah but seriously though, I’m still the favorite, right?” he squishes Jinhwan’s cheeks a little more because he feels like being an annoying shit and because annoying Jinhwan is his literal sworn purpose at this point. “ _Right?_ ”

Jinhwan slaps his hand away from his face. “No.”

“ _Wow_. I can’t believe this disrespect that I,  _Kim Hanb_ in,” Hanbin’s practically  _screaming_  it down the hallway at this point, doesn’t even stop when Jinhwan’s eyes widen in complete  _horror_  as he cups his hands near his mouth, “Jinhwan’s  _favorite_  person of  _all_  time—”

“Okay, so I fucking hate you,” Jinhwan’s got his burrito wrap secured as he clutches the sheets with his fist and waddles away, the blanket trail still dragging behind him and he’s pissed as all hell.

“No, you don’t,” Hanbin calls after him, and he watches Jinhwan from behind in amusement at his attempt to shuffle away like a penguin, watches him struggle to even walk straight with all the weight of the blankets and nearly fall over face-first in the process. And all he can do is smile because he  _knows_. Knows he’s the favorite. Knows he’ll  _always_  be the favorite. Jinhwan for sure knows it, too.

They reach the front of Jiwon and Donghyuk’s room, the loud bass of muffled trap music pretty much seeping into the hallway, and Hanbin makes a face at how it completely disturbs the peace _._  Then again, he supposes it’s somewhat better than having to hear Jinhwan’s playlist full of  _baby making R &B_ type shit, or Chanwoo’s weird ass Miku Hatsune/Fortnite remixes. That in itself already raises way too many fucking questions with everyone else who lives here.

The peace in the hallway gets shattered even further when Hanbin opts to start banging on the door and starts yelling  _‘open up, traitors’_  like he’s about to break it down and  _rob_  the goddamn place and Jinhwan winces because he’s being fucking  _loud_  and he now fully understands why everyone else on their floor fucking hates them.

“Bin, chill  _out_ ,” he says tiredly, and he’s really not in the mood to have the land lord scream at him to the point of near tears because they got yet another noise complaint. Having Junhoe live on this floor at all’s already gotten them into enough trouble. “You’re gonna break the door.  _And_  my eardrums.”

“Jinhwan,” Hanbin looks over at him. “He’s eating my goddamn  _lasagna_ ,” he says pointedly, 100% serious despite how fucking stupid it sounds. “Fuck him  _and_  this door.”

He doesn’t get another word in before the door flings open and out emerges a disheveled-looking Jiwon, his hair a fluffy  _mess_  as it springs all over the place and he’s in a loose oversized tank top that says ‘ _it ain’t gonna suck itself_ ’ on it in obnoxious white letters, and he’s got his baggy sweatpants on. The music practically shoots out in one fat ass  _spurt_  from behind him and it’s so fucking  _loud_  that Jinhwan winces, resists the urge to cover his ears so they don’t literally explode and bleed out, but Hanbin doesn’t even react to it. Just stands there and accepts it. Probably because his ears already died out from rooming with Jiwon all throughout college.

“Sup,” Jiwon says it coolly over the music, then contradicts himself when he almost trips on the slippery _'cum inside'_ welcome mat in front of his door, and he pulls his lollipop out of his mouth with a loud  _slurp_  as he leans against the door frame.

Hanbin stands there, almost entirely stunned when he doesn’t get bitch slapped in the face with the smell of pure weed this time because their room literally  _always_  fucking smells like it, but now it just smells like straight up  _pasta_.

“Wow,” Hanbin crosses his arms, cocks an eyebrow even as he looks around because he almost forgot what their room looked like  _without_  a hazy layer of smoke fogging up the entire place. Still messy as shit, and it makes his skin crawl a little, but it’s semi-normal. “Surprised you haven’t hotboxed the place in, yet.”

Jiwon snorts at that, and it’s light. All  _hiccup-y_  and goofy. “See, we  _would_  have,” he points the lollipop like it’s a baton for extra emphasis. “But Yunhyeong’s fuckin’ lame and said it’d  _taint the purity of his craft_  or some dumb shit, so,” he makes air quotes, and shrugs. “Yeah. ‘Fraid we had to  _ixnay_  on the  _eed-way_.”

An unannounced and completely bored-looking Donghyuk pops up from behind him and rests him arm on Jiwon’s shoulder, runs his hand through the messy fluff on his head and it’s almost funny how both of their outfits are almost exactly the same, only Donghyuk’s tank top says  _‘it ain’t gonna_ eat _itself’_  on it.

Donghyuk sucks his teeth. “Why’re you acting like bloody mary’s gonna come murder us all if you say  _weed_  out loud, dude? It’s _weed_. Just fucking say it.”

Jiwon slams a hand over Donghyuk's mouth with wide eyes. “ _Christ_ ,” he looks around, making sure the coast’s all clear as if he’s expecting a swat team to burst outta the walls. “Dude, don’t just fuckin’  _scream it out_  into the goddamn hallway. You gotta censor it before someone like, reports us to the police for bein’ civilly inept or some shit.”

Donghyuk looks at him with bored eyes. Mumbles something into his palm that’s probably an insult, and Jiwon yanks his hand away with a loud squeak and eyes it like it’s just caught fire.

“Did you just fuckin'  _lick_  me?!”

“Yeah, I did,” and Donghyuk crosses his arms, leans against the other side of the door frame and gives both Jinhwan and Hanbin a once-over, followed by a little nod. “Sup, parental figures?”

Jinhwan rolls his eyes and shoves past him, barely managing to squeeze past the door with the sheer girth of his blanket burrito, and he almost knocks both Jiwon and Donghyuk over with it.

Donghyuk blinks as he watches him disappear into the kitchen to help Yunhyeong with whatever the hell, and he shoots Hanbin a confused look. “Somethin’ I said?”

“ _Parental figures?_  Really?”

“Not like I’m  _wrong_ ,” Donghyuk just shrugs. “The hell even took you two so long, anyways? Spooning?”

Hanbin blushes, but he still scoffs. “We don’t  _spoon_ ,” and he crosses his arms.  _Promptly_  leaves out the fact that the only reason they don’t do it is because Jinhwan’s way too fucking ticklish and physically just can’t handle it.

“Shit, you serious?” Jiwon’s eyebrows disappear behind his bangs in genuine shock, and he whistles. “Really? Don’t like, all parents do that kinda shit, though?”

“We are not  _parents_.”

“Ya kinda are,” Donghyuk says it pointedly with another shrug, opens the door fully and practically  _drags_  Hanbin into their apartment by the wrist and the music’s  _pounding_  in his ears now. “Now bring that ass in here, ‘cause Yunhyeong made cupcakes,” he leans a little closer, and Hanbin has to almost violently fight back the urge to recite their little ‘talk’ about personal space yet again. “And they’re fuckin’  _bomb_.”

Hanbin lets himself get yanked, too tired to protest and he shoots him a look of mock skepticism. “What flavor we talkin’ here, exactly?”

Jiwon comes up from behind him too and throws a loose arm around his shoulder, gives it a little rough shake. “Chill, dude. It’s chocolate this time.”

 

~

 

So Jiwon apparently only half lied on the phone, Hanbin quickly figures out, because the fort’s fucking  _ginormous_ , and it literally looks like one giant castle with the way it’s set up. There’s a few blankets piled on top of each other to cover the floor space, pillows scattered in every corner, and a shit ton of white sheets to make up the drapery on top as the ‘ceiling,’ all of them sitting in one big circle with bowls of pasta, ziti, chicken, cupcakes, and lasagna scattered everywhere, and they're all just sitting in front of the flat screen. Mainly just talking, still on the high of that round of laughter they're still recovering from after Jiwon and Donghyuk tell a story about the one time when a customer threatened them with a lawsuit for accidentally serving her  _skim_ milk instead of almond milk with her cappuccino. 

So yeah, family night's okay. Maybe even more than okay.

Scary movies are completely off limits, though. Common precaution they’ve gotta take from now on so Jinhwan doesn’t literally go into fucking _cardiac arrest_.

“A’right, so,” Jiwon stretches his arms above his head and crawls towards the TV on his knees, careful not to hit his head on the ‘ceiling’ made out of sheets. “We watchin’ a movie or we playin’ video games this time? Remember, no Overwatch,” he shoves his fuzzy-socked foot in Hanbin’s direction, eyes narrowed. “Thanks to this fuckin’  _shit stain_  right here and his last tantrum.”

“Okay, give it a  _rest,”_ Hanbin rolls his eyes at him. “Look, my hands were sweaty and the remote  _just so happened_  to be in ‘em, alright?”

“Hanbin,” Jiwon points to the screen. “There is a goddamn  _crack_  in my  _TV_.”

“We could play Mortal Combat X again?” Chanwoo speaks up for the first time in a while, face screwed in complete serious thought as he swirls some spaghetti with his fork. “It’s more fun when it’s multiplayer anyways, so. Plus I just got that new Erron Black skin.”

“We can’t. That’d only be fun for  _you_ , man,” Donghyuk slurs through closed eyelids, and no one questions why the tequila bottle next to him is already 95% empty when they haven’t even been sitting here for more than fifteen minutes. “Playin’ video games with a world pro is like,” he hiccups, “ _Iunno_ , it’s like, fucking a closeted millionaire who’s already got like, five wives,” he pouts at his half-empty glass like it’s offended his entire goddamn family, holding it up to the light and full-on glaring at it. “Like. It’s  _fun_  and shit but is it  _really_  fun? Is it fuckin’  _really_?”

Jinhwan slowly turns and shoots Donghyuk a weird look, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Um. You good over there, pal? ‘Cause that was  _oddly_  specific.”

Donghyuk doesn’t even say anything to that, just whimpers in response and turns around, buries himself in his blankets and hides into a little burrito of sheets in the corner, sniffling quietly.

Okay. This is why alcohol’s borderline prohibited.

“Um. Right.  _Well_ ,” Yunhyeong clears his throat, politely wipes away at some tomato sauce on his lips with a napkin. “Actually, I was thinking we could all play a board game tonight. Y’know like, change it up a little?”

He says it super sweetly and super innocently but the immediate response is complete fucking _chaos_.

“Oh no. No,  _fuck_  that,” Jiwon points the remote at him dangerously. “No, I’m not playin’  _shit_  with you people ever again after that last Monopoly round we had. ‘Specially not with this  _overly competitive_ fucker right here.”

Hanbin’s quick to defend himself. “Look, I’m not overly  _competitive_ , I just,” he pauses. “Have an intense burning hatred for failure that eats away at me immensely," he takes an unnecessarily aggressive bite out of his cupcake, cheeks puffed out and entirely stuffed. "Ith called _ambithion_.”

Jinhwan rolls his eyes at him. “Getting into a real fist fight with Jun over a jail card isn’t  _ambitious_ ,” he gives Hanbin a light pat on the cheek. “You’re still buying me a new coffee table for that, by the way. Eat your food.”

He says it in  _that_  tone and Hanbin doesn’t even object. Doesn’t  _even_  attempt to. Just stabs at his lasagna as he continues eating it quietly in shame.

Shout out to that poor coffee table, by the way. He’ll humbly remember it for breaking his fall in the middle of that weird ass duel.

Yunhyeong doesn’t give a shit about any of it, though. Apparently, them almost murdering each other over monopoly in cold blood wasn’t enough to discourage him from bringing any board games on this premises ever again when they sure as hell should be  _banned_. Maybe even illegal.

He’s  _way_  too sweet for his own good. “Board games require precise problem-solving skills and encourage healthy family bonding,” he recites with a hand raised, like a junior boy scout and it’s so heinously  _wholesome_  and his smile’s probably the only thing keeping everyone from committing mass homicide at the suggestion. “It’ll be fun! Look, I even have it with me, hold on—”

And literally  _no one_  has any time to object before Yunhyeong’s already rummaging through his bag on the floor, legs crossed and shaking with excitement and he pulls out a big ass brightly colored box and it’s. Well, it’s—

“Pink,” Junhoe comments somberly. “It’s so  _pink,_ why’s it so fucking  _pink?_ ”

And oh.

Oh,  _hell_.

 _“Candyland?”_ Hanbin’s eyes widen when he reads the pink candy cane font, and he officially wants to fucking  _die_. 

“Yup,” Yunhyeong just beams, brings the board to the center of the room and starts unfolding it as he pulls out all the pieces, beckoning for everyone to get closer. “It’s less fight-inducing than monopoly, so why not? C’mon, I’ll explain the rules for everyone. They’re super simple.”

"Um, so like, is this mandatory?" Jiwon raises his hand. "Like, can I be excused from this shit or?"

"Nope! It's definitely mandatory," is the plain, horrendously overenthusiastic response he receives. "Gather around peeps, we're not gettin' any younger."

Junhoe stays rooted in place, a grey storm cloud hanging over his head as he glares at the board game pieces because all he sees is  _pink_  and why’s it’s so fucking  _pink_ —“Hyung, are you  _serious?_ What are we, five?”

“Five wives. He had five whole fuckin’  _wives_. And he didn’t even fuckin’  _tell me_ —”

“Donghyuk, that’s enough,” Jinhwan’s tone is  _sharp_. “Put the tequila down.”

A whimper and a sniffle in response.

“Okay, not to be  _that_  person,” Chanwoo says slowly and he eyes the cursed board game warily, like it’s a stick of dynamite about to explode and dismantle the entire fucking human race. “But like.  _Why?_ ”

“Because it’s wholesome and cute and you guys can’t box each other over it,” Yunhyeong says plainly, pointing to the label in the lower right corner. “Look, it’s even for ages three and up. Which means we can all play!”

There’s a moment where everyone groans in absolute unison as soon as he says it.

“No.  _No_ ,” Jiwon objects immediately from where he’s now sprawled out in his starfish position on the floor, running his hands down his face and he groans loudly into his palms. “My fuckin’ brain  _already_  hurts, dude. Can’t we just like, I dunno, watch an action movie or some shit? Something that won’t make me wanna commit  _arson?”_

Donghyuk turns around from his little corner sulk to shoot him a weird look, eyes going crossed for a second as he tries to refocus them without puking. “Man, the  _hell’s_  up your obsession with buff white dudes and guns lately? You sure you aren’t a power bottom?”

Jiwon’s eyes widen and he shoots up from the floor so  _fast_ that it nearly startles everyone. “ _Listen_ ,” he points at Donghyuk aggressively. “Listen, we fuckin’  _talked_  about this shit, man. I’m not—”

“Yeah yeah, whatever, you’re not  _‘technically_   _gay_ ,’” Donghyuk air quotes and rolls his eyes. “Fine. Straight-passing. Haphazardly hetero. That better? Jesus.”

“Alright,” Hanbin raises his arms when they start bickering  _again_ , hands outwards, laid out flat. “Alright, everybody shut the fuck up for a sec. Let’s all just ask  _Jinhwan_  what the verdict is.”

Jinhwan doesn’t even have time to protest before all eyes immediately shoot towards him while he’s still mid-way through his pasta, a noodle still hanging loosely from his lips.

“Um—”

“Wait, what?” Junhoe's eyes are  _wide_. “You can’t just let him  _overrule_  the entire jury, man. How’s _that_ fair?”

“He's our goddamn  _mom_ ,” Donghyuk says it through muffled sheets, followed by another hiccup. “Moms always overrule the jury, dude. It’s in the bro bible.”

“Okay, I am  _not_ ," Jinhwan points at him with his fork, the pasta noodle on it flopping with each syllable, "A  _mom_.”

“Dude, you’re kinda our mom,” Jiwon shrugs and sits back down with a sigh, wiping his hands onto his sweatpants. “Fine. Whatever. We playin’ this stupid ass game or what?”

A beat of silence.

“Okay," Jinhwan waves his hands around, gives up entirely. Tired as all shit. "Okay,  _fine_. We're playing. But I’m not breaking shit up if any of you start throwing hands. Got it?” he points at Hanbin and Junhoe for good measure, and they both mutter out an irritated  _fine_  in unison.

Yunhyeong beams.

 

They’re about four rounds in having already learned the painfully easy rules of the game and about thirty minutes of having to hear a repeat of Yunhyeong excitedly saying ' _see guys? we're bonding!'_ when they realize that Candyland's not  _that_  fucking terrible. Still not monopoly, but it's probably for the best to be honest. Because this is actually kinda cute.

It’s Donghyuk, Hanbin, Junhoe, and Chanwoo playing this time, and shit’s going good. No one’s been stabbed in the neck with a spork yet, so it’s all good. Shit’s  _all_   _good_.

Jinhwan doesn’t even bother joining in on any of the rounds because he’s too tired and genuinely just doesn’t fucking wanna do this at  _all_ , but Yunhyeong’s too nice and he’s too much of a softie, so instead of retreating back into his apartment and passing the fuck out ‘til the next reign of civilization, he’s sticking it out. Just chillin’, watching everyone have fun and not murder each other in cold blood.

So, he sits. Keeps his hands tucked under his knees like a little ball of warmth in the spot he’s already claimed next to Hanbin because somewhere in the middle of them all, he managed to steal Hanbin’s grey oversized hoodie. Doesn’t really know how or when the fuck that even happened, but it happened, and he sure as hell doesn’t plan on giving it back because he’s way too comfy in it.

Hanbin’s super into it, almost a little  _too_  into it considering this game’s got the mental capacity of a two year-old and it’s literally not even that goddamn serious, but then again, this is Hanbin. Everything’s that-goddamn-serious with him.

It’s when they all watch Chanwoo pull another card and move his game piece and the rest of them start screaming over his almost-landing on the licorice space that he decides to face plant into Hanbin’s shoulder, and it's only kinda weird because Hanbin smells like a weird combo of fresh linens and cheesy tomato sauce, but he doesn't even give a shit at this point. Just closes his eyes, tuning out all the extra noise.

It’s too loud. It's  _way_  too loud. He hates loud.

He feels a chilly hand grip gently on his thigh and he looks up, his eyes immediately landing on the familiar pair of puffy rosy lips. Then on the slope of that gentle nose, up to those delicately sculpted cheekbones, until he raises his gaze all the way up to those dark, intense puppy eyes staring right back at him.

And  _man_. Even in this shitty dimmed lighting, Jinhwan can still see all the galaxies swimming in them.

“You okay?” Hanbin’s voice is a little hushed over everyone’s banshee screams. “You keep spacing out on me.”

“I’m fine, just kinda tired,” Jinhwan lets his head fall back onto the shoulder with a sigh. “I blame you and your comfy ass hoodie. Which you’re never getting back by the way,” he nuzzles his nose into the cotton, closes his eyes for a second and sighs at how  _cozy_  it is.

“Yeah? Glad you’re havin’ a great time in there,” Hanbin pulls on the hoodie’s drawstrings, snorting when it covers 90% of Jinhwan’s head and only leaves his face showing. “Because I’m kinda freezing my ass off over here, bud.”

It’s then that he’s reminded that Hanbin’s only wearing a white t-shirt, and he's immediately hit with guilt.

“Oh,” Jinhwan raises his head from the younger's shoulder and looks up at him. “You want me to warm you up?”

So apparently that was the worst fucking thing to ask ever because Hanbin immediately looks like he’s about to have a  _heart attack._

“I—what?”

Jinhwan notices the panic and blinks. “Yeah. Y’know, like with cuddles.”

A few seconds of confused silence as they both look at each other.

“ _Ohhh_ ,” Hanbin’s face relaxes and he runs a hand through his hair, and Jinhwan narrows his eyes when he heaves out a relieved  _whew_. “Wow, okay. Holy  _shit_ , that was—”

"Bin. What’d you  _think_  I meant?”

Hanbin looks like he's still trying to recover from almost  _dying_. “I mean, I dunno. Knowing you, that could mean a  _lotta_  shit.”

It earns him a glorious fist to the arm, and this time Jinhwan doesn’t feel bad at all when Hanbin heaves out a pained whine. Just rolls his eyes, tells him to  _stop being a goddamn baby_ , and goes back to blindly watching everyone scream over color block cards.

But this is fine. Candyland’s fine. Because it’s literally the easiest goddamn game of all time. So, there’s absolutely no way in hell they can fuck this up.

Yup. No way whatsoever.

“Well, Jiwon?” Yunhyeong pipes, shuffling the deck of cards again and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Do you have anything you wanna  _sayyy?_ ”

Jiwon rolls his eyes from where he’s laying on his tummy, feet childishly kicked up in the air and his cheeks resting in his hands as he watches the game carry on, choosing to sit out having already won the last round. “Don’t gimmie that look, dude. This is still fuckin’ stupid. But like, also kinda entertaining, so. Whatever.”  

“See? I  _told_  you it’d be fun,” Yunhyeong smiles as he sets the deck down and sits cross-legged, backs up from the table and signals his arms around like he’s refereeing an NBA match and not a dumb ass board game made for literal preschoolers. “Okay so deck’s shuffled. Bin, it’s your turn.”

Hanbin pulls a card from the deck and does an ear-splitting single clap, which makes Jinhwan flinch, and he puts on his game face. “ _Fuck_  yeah, I'm goin' to _lollipop woodssss_ ,” he sing-songs so loudly and  _completely_  off-key, even does a dorky little dance to celebrate, and he’s about to move his game piece until Junhoe juts his arm out to stop him.

“Nah, actually, you don’t. Because it’s my turn,” Junhoe reaches over and steals a card from the deck.

Hanbin watches with wide eyes as it passes over his face. “What’re you doing?”

_Fuck’s sake._

Junhoe shoots him a pointed look, like he already knows where shit’s going. “Dude, you got a licorice space last time. Which means you gotta skip your turn this round.”

“Oh cool, so we’re  _cheating_  now?”

“How the hell’s that  _cheating?_  It’s literally in the  _rules_.”

"Fight fight _fight fight_ ," Chanwoo starts chanting under his breath, getting louder with each syllable, but stops immediately with wide eyes when Jinhwan shoots him a glare that thins his blood on impact and he mumbles out a quick _sorry, hyung._

Hanbin narrows his eyes, not ready to give up. “Dude, that card  _specifically_  landed me on that lollipop square. See this?" he jabs his finger at the poor innocent cartoon sign. "Lollipop fucking _woods_. And see that?" he points to the baby pink spot with the itty bitty green lollipop on it. " _Lollipop square_."

 _God_. Their neighbors must be having a fucking _field day_ listening to this, given how ridiculously thin these walls are.

Junhoe huffs. “Yeah, and that last card you pulled put you on that licorice space, so,” and he shrugs. Crosses his arms and sits back with a victorious smirk. “Too bad. Looks like I’m gonna win. 'Cause I'm about to pass Snowflake Lake.”

He sticks his tongue out after he says it, and Hanbin's eye twitches.

Hanbin gets up on his knees. Leans forward over the table, hands splayed out and eyes fixed like he’s ready to kill a man. “Junhoe. I want my goddamn  _lollipop square_.”

Jinhwan looks up at the ceiling. Wonders  _what_  he did to deserve this.

The easiest board game of all time.

It’s the  _easiest board game of all time._

And fucking  _yet_ —

“Hanbin. You got a  _licorice space_ last round,” Junhoe says it with  _equal_  challenge. “Which means it’s not your fucking  _turn_.”

“Um, guys?” Yunhyeong raises his hand politely with an awkward laugh, like he’s in a classroom. Like he’s crawling into a lion’s den and fearing for his own life. “I-It’s just a game. Maybe we should calm d—"

Hanbin ignores him. Just slams both of his palms onto the table so fucking _loudly_ and slowly says, through _gritted_ teeth,

 _“Lollipop woods._ _”_

Junhoe one-ups him with the same stubbornness, and he cocks an eyebrow. Lets the syllables draw out agonizingly slow as he says _“licorice space.”_

“Lollipop _. Woods_.”

“Licorice _._ ** _Space_**.”

They start chanting both phrases back and forth at each other like it's some kinda stupid ass satanic ritual, Hanbin being super adamant about passing through these goddamn lollipop woods and landing on his beloved lollipop square because apparently it's just that fucking serious, and Junhoe telling him _go fuck yourself, it's not your turn._

It's when their voices get progressively louder and eventually turn into yelling that Jinhwan realizes he's had _enough_. He loves Yunhyeong to death and everything but _fuck_ this, he's too goddamn _tired_  to break up a literal boxing match. Again.

“Okay, you know what? Shut up. Everybody just _shut up_ ,” he stands up, arms out. “ _Neither_ of you get to go this round.”

Junhoe’s already protesting. “Hold on,  _what?_  Who said you get to call the shots here?”

It takes not even half a second after he says it for Jinhwan’s eyes to clock on him like a sniper so fucking  _fast_.

“ _Ex_ ** _cuse_**  me?”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Junhoe throws his hands up in surrender, eyes wide. “N-Nothing, man. Call all the shots you want, just. Christ, don’t  _stab_  me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought," Jinhwan looks like he's still ready to kill, but he suffices. Mainly because he's still half dead from eating all that fucking _pasta_ and he's too lazy to go ham on anybody right now. "Donghyuk-ah, you go.”

Donghyuk’s already collapsed on the floor somehow, his face squished against the carpet and his left sock nowhere to be found and the tequila bottle completely empty next to him.

“Hey so like,” he raises his head from the floor a little, a game piece stuck to the side of his cheek, “is the room spinning for anybody else right now or is that just me?”

“Never mind,” Jinhwan closes his eyes, rubs at his temple. “Chanwoo, you go.  _Please_. Before I  _actually_  kill myself.”

“Okay, hyung,” and Chanwoo pulls a card. Moves his game piece around the board to wherever the hell it’s supposed to go, but it’s like both Junhoe and Hanbin forget they’re even fucking playing anymore because they’re having an intense stare off across from each other.

“Lollipop.”

“Licorice.”

“ _Lollipop_.”

“ ** _Licorice_** —"

“Okay, this is why I said you two should skip turns—"

“ _Five wives_. He had _five_ goddamn  _wives_ —”

“Donghyuk, for the love of fuckin’  _christ_ —"

“Guys  _please_ , board games are supposed to bring families  _together_ , not separate the—"

“I win.”

The screaming stops at once. And it's so  _quiet_ all of a sudden, as everybody looks at the source of the voice, a collective shock filling the entire room.

Because Chanwoo’s sitting there in his spot, legs crossed and he looks so fucking  _bored_ , his red game piece at the very last space on the map, right where the rainbow colored block and the cute little cartoon _king kandy_ man lies.

“Wait,” Hanbin’s eyes are wide. “Wait a second.  _What?_ ”

Chanwoo points at the board with his lollipop. Gives the lollipop a little kitty lick, and everyone’s eyes land on his game piece. “I landed on the rainbow spot. Which means I made it to the Candy Castle. So I win,” he says simply, and he’s already standing up. “Anyways, can we have ice cream now?”

Hanbin looks like he’s about to start  _convulsing_.

“Yeah hold on, I think Yun put 'em in our freezer,” Jiwon hops up and makes baby skips towards the kitchen. “Oh, and somebody help Donghyuk up,” he motions to his roomie who’s literally  _passed the fuck out_  on their carpet. “I think he like, fuckin’ died or some shit.”

“I got it,” Yunhyeong’s already getting up, crossing over the living room to a semi-unconscious Donghyuk cuddling with a pillow and sniffling quietly face down onto the carpet.

It's when Hanbin stands up and starts making his way towards the kitchen that he feels somebody's warm breath over his ear say  _licorice~,_ and he flinches as he twirls around with wide eyes, only to see Junhoe smirking back at him as he too makes way for the kitchen.

“Alright," Hanbin points at him aggressively, ready to  _fight_. "Alright, listen up,  _Gu_ —"

Jinhwan grabs his hand and yanks him back. “ _Don’t_. Look, you did your best,” he gives him a double pat on the arm, like he’s pep talking an eight year-old. “Kinda.”

Hanbin frowns when Jinhwan ruffles a hand through his hair and makes it all messy, but he doesn’t complain. Just intertwines their fingers and lets himself get dragged into the kitchen against his will.

“Whatever,” he scoffs. “Look, I’m still mad about that lollipop square," he turns and gives Junhoe the death glare as he says it. "I deserve a fucking  _rematch_.”

Jinhwan turns around and looks at him like he’s lost his goddamn mind. “Yeah,  _no_. That’s never gonna happen. Because we’re literally never playing this again.  _Ever_. Hey, Yun?” he calls over his shoulder into the living room. “Next time? Bring Super Smash Bros, will you?”

Yunhyeong shoots him an  _okay_  sign from where he’s busy trying to haul Donghyuk up off the ground, struggling immensely when Donghyuk starts flailing his arms around and nearly takes his damn eye out. “ _Noted_.”

Everyone else pretty much starts piling into the bar stools as Jiwon places three big ass cartons of ice cream on the counter, each one with a different flavor, and he looks around. Left and right, up and down, and ruffles his hair when he can't find what he's looking for.

"Okay so, am I that fuckin' dumb or?" he keeps twisting around. "Because I'm pretty fuckin' sure I left the scooper like, right fuckin' here."

"Oh," Junhoe pipes, moves outta the way from where he's leaning near the sink a little and uncovers the said little ice cream scooper. "Yeah, it's right here."

There's a moment of silence before both hands start diving for the ice cream scooper, Jiwon with the intent of taking it and Junhoe blindly attempting to try to hand it to him, but they both reach for it at the same time, which results in one awkward ass collision.

Jiwon pulls his hand away  _immediately_. "Fuck, my bad, I—," he stammers, eyes wide like he's about to get his arm cut off for spitting on a  _monarch_  or some shit. "Just—uh, did you? Did you wanna do it?"

Junhoe blinks. Just kinda stares at him and then down at the little baby blue scooper in his hands and raises an eyebrow when Jiwon doesn't look at him as he hands it to him.

"Um, sure?" he takes it. Shrugs and steps over to the ice cream cartons. "Yeah, I guess."

Jinhwan's life nearly flashes before his eyes.

"Holy shit,  _no,"_ and he  _nyooms_  in Junhoe's direction, eyes _wide_ as hell. "No no  _ **no**_. Christ, just.  _Move_ ," he quickly grabs the scooper out of Junhoe's hands and tries to push him outta the way. Struggles because Junhoe barely even budges. "Jun,  _move_. Before you fucking  _kill_  somebody."

"Hyung, it's  _ice cream,"_ Junhoe's still not really budging, but he still steps outta the way a little to save Jinhwan the embarrassment. "Jesus, you act like I'm gonna blow up the whole kitchen."

"You  _did_. Three fucking times."

"Okay,  _listen_ , those were  _entirely_ different circumstances, alright? I didn't even know I left that shoe in the oven last time." 

Jinhwan just stares at him. Recalls the war flashbacks. "Jun.  _Park it_ ," he aggressively points to the empty bar stool next to Hanbin, puts on  _the voice_  and watches as Junhoe crosses around the counter with a groan to sit down in it. "Bin, do you want any?"

Hanbin raises his head from the counter from his mini sulk over that stupid ass licorice space and doesn't even bother fixing his hair when it flops messily in front of his eyes. "Can't. Ice cream is for the weak," he says seriously because he's a  _nerd_ , eyeing Junhoe and narrowing his eyes when Junhoe runs his tongue all over his spoon and starts making a goddamn _mess_ with his ice cream just to piss him off.

"Right," Jinhwan gives him a bored look. "So, chocolate then?"

Apparently that was the right thing to say because Hanbin looks at him immediately and his eyes soften into something a little more child-like. A little more puppy-like.  _Bingo_.

"Wait okay but what  _kinda_  chocolate?"

Jinhwan puts a hand on his hip. "Chocolate chunk."

Hanbin sits back and strokes his chin in thought. Presses his hands together and half-interlocks them like he's some kinda king at a round table. "Hm. Proceed, royal subject."

Jinhwan rolls his eyes at him but still gnaws at his bottom lip, scoops him up some ice cream and bites back a smile when Hanbin cups his hands out like a fucking _kid_ when he takes the bowl, the younger's eyes sparkling. 

And it's moments like this where he cherishes whenever Hanbin's not being uptight or  _desolate_  or so anxious the he can't even sit still. No, Jinhwan loves him like this the most. When he's genuinely enjoying himself and having _fun_ doing whatever the fuck and getting excited about really dumb trivial shit, like ice cream and candy castles and snowflake forests and fucking _lollipop woods._

And it's cute. It's _so_ fucking cute.

For someone who hates everything cute and being called cute and even the _word_ cute, he does a whole lot of cute shit.

Exhibit A of Hanbin being 'not cute') the little noise he makes the second his spoon hits his tongue, followed by the airy little _wow_.

He manages to get a little on his lower lip and doesn't even notice it because he's too busy having the time of his fucking _life_ in his bowl right now, and it's almost entirely outta character given he's so _assbent_ on anyone else who makes messes.

"Hey, Yun?" Hanbin speaks up, puts his bowl down for a moment and turns in Yunhyeong's direction. "Hey, where'd y—"

"Hang on," Jinhwan interrupts him with a raised hand, eyes glaringly focused on the little chocolate smudge on his lip. "Look at me for a sec?"

Hanbin looks over at him with an eyebrow cocked at being cut off, and he doesn't have time to react. Doesn't really have time to even _breathe_ before his chin's being gently snatched up and titled backwards a little, Jinhwan's breath hitching over his face just barely.

And he gently just _runs_ his thumb over Hanbin's plump lower lip, ignores how soft it and _plush_  it feels under his fingertip. Just wipes off the chocolate ice cream entirely, and casually just sucks it off from his finger. Like it's nothing.

"Sorry, that was gonna bug me," he comments casually, and he grabs a napkin to wipe off the saliva from his finger. "What were you gonna say?"

Hanbin's _completely_  frozen in place, his lips kinda parted and the spoon hanging limply in his hand.

"I—no, I just," he stammers, looking down into his bowl. Pauses for a second and clutches his thigh. "Uh, I just was gonna ask Yunhyeong where the. Where the ice cream was from, or. Something."

_Or something._

Christ.

"Yeah, it's like,  _super_ good," Chanwoo's spoon clinks against his own bowl as he practically devours his own vanilla bean flavor. "You get this from that supermarket down the street, hyung?"

Yunhyeong finally manages to get Donghyuk to sit in one of the bar stools after having to _literally_ drag him on his fucking feet. He gently pats the half passed-out boy on the shoulder, passes him a bottle of water, says a quick _death by dehydration isn't cute, hun,_  and he wipes a bead of sweat from his own forehead.

"Nope!" he finally pipes, sliding into the stool beside Donghyuk and throwing an arm over the younger's shoulders so he doesn't slip. "I got it from that Godiva store a few miles from here. It's good though, right?"

Jiwon almost _chokes_ on his own spoon. "Jesus _fuck_ ," he coughs out. "Isn't the shit in that place kinda _expensive_ , man? You goin' all _high maintenance_ on us now?"

Hanbin just shakes his head, swirling his spoon into his bowl. "Nah, he prolly got that from Jinhwan."

Exhibit B of Hanbin being 'not cute') The little whimper he lets out when Jinhwan reaches over the counter and punches him in the arm _hard_ as hell for the jab.

"Did you just _assault_ me?!" he shrieks, and he's met with a dead stare.

"Yeah, I did," Jinhwan deadpans, rolls up the freakishly big hoodie sleeve half-jokingly like he's about to hit him again. "Because you're an asshole. Thinkin' about doing it again, to be honest."

Hanbin makes a weird noise in the back of his throat and rubs at his arm. "Hang on, why am _I_ being harassed? I thought we were fucking  _bonded_."

Jinhwan feels the tips of his ears flare up at that and he groans. Doesn't even _feel_ like addressing how fucking _wrong_ that sounds because he's not even sure that Hanbin's aware of it. " _Never_ say that again, Bin," he says seriously, opening up the vanilla carton and getting ready to scoop some out into a bowl for himself. "Also I'm gonna go to sleep and have _lollipop woods_ stuck in my head for the rest of my entire goddamn life now, so. Yeah, thanks for that. Maybe we should bring back Just Dance. 'Cause I don't think we played that together since like, college."

Hanbin raises an eyebrow at him. "Um, you sure that's safe? 'Cause you'd definitely take my eye out if we ever attempted Dynamite again, and uh. I kinda need these eyes, so."

Jinhwan stops scooping immediately, and looks at him. Fucking _hates_ himself when the tips of his ears turn red. "That was _one_ time, Bin," he points the scooper with each stressed syllable. " _One time_."

"Whatever," Hanbin shrugs. "You still almost took my eye out."

"Shut _up_ , just," Jinhwan _groans_. Doesn't even have the fucking energy at _all_ to defend his own stupid ass clumsiness that nearly cost Hanbin his own goddamn life _and_ eyesight. Just Dance needs to come with a life contract. "Eat your ice cream. Dork."

Exhibit C of Hanbin being 'not cute') when Hanbin flashes him a super small, close-lipped dimpled smile, and Jinhwan ignores the way it makes him go all soft. 

God.

Okay, so new note to self: Never fucking play Monopoly _or_  Candyland in this group of friends ever again. 

 _Ever_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like this was p fun to write  
> also I haven't played candyland in years but ??? truly the GOAT of all board games y'all  
> jiwon pov in the next chap ;;


	4. Okay, so.

It's morning where I live so I'll just say G'Morning lads. 

OKAY.

First of all, many of you know what happened. I don't wanna touch on it too much here because I don't wanna upset any of you or myself, but yeah. I just wanna say this really quickly.

So this fic's pretty new. Like really new. Pretty much a baby. A 'lil fetus. A lot of things that I planned out for the future of this fic months ago (y'all I literally started writing this like 9 months ago dgshfkdk just never got the courage to start posting it til march!!) dealt with a lot of different themes. Like it's mainly lighthearted and funny and yeah there's dick jokes and crack and blah blah but there's still a lot of serious themes in it that I just haven't posted yet obviously because of pacing and the fact that it's still in its baby stages rn. And I dunno I just feel like it might take me a little longer to really map out how I'm gonna execute certain things just because it wouldn't feel right to write something that hits a little _too close_  to home because a lot of what happened yesterday did just that. It hit home for a lot of things.

And about Hanbin. I'm still gonna keep writing, but tbh I don't really wanna write any of those "serious themes" or anything much at all really until I'm updated enough to know that he's 100% safe and fed and comforted and with the other boys and just physically and mentally  _okay_ , if that makes sense? If it doesn't, I'm sorry fjdskfld the ult hanbin stan in me didn't sleep last night at ALL because I was really worried about him and I physically just could not do it. Like there hasn't even been a picture of the members or of him or of  _anything_  and I'm over here like "dhdfDSJFHKS SO CAN YALL JUST TELL ME IF HE'S ENTIRELY OK OR NOT SO I CAN KNOW WHO TO FIGHT." It's still really early but seeing how YG's literally trying to erase him into nonexistence when it ain't even been a full 48 hours says a  _lot_  and I'm kinda having a whole crisis about it, so. *finger guns* 

Also to everyone who's very sad and in a lot of pain right now, I know it hurts so much and I know everyone's trying to find a distraction to ease it a little, so that's probably why you're here. I understand. Just  _please_  just remember to eat, shower, sleep, get some rest, and take some time. And breathe, okay? Everything's gonna be okay <3 

 

Love you all, please stay safe ;;


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